Tag: Writing

  • Blades of Ashes Ch 15-2

    Chapter 15-2

    The Doriel residence felt warm and well-lived in. The great room to the right of the entryway was filled with an assortment of chairs and long couches meant to encourage rest and conversation.

    Alise invited them to take a seat in the great room.

    “I’ll check on arrangements,” Alise said. “Please wait for me.”

    Raithion nodded and moved to sit on one of the closest armchairs with a view of the back of the house. Haedor chose a couch by the windows with a view of the front of the building.

    “What do you think will happen next?” Haedor asked when they were alone.

    “The Sura Clan’s decisions are made within a council,” Raithion said. “I’m sure that is who Alise is working with to arrange a meeting.”

    “Not the angry Prince Azula?” Haedor said with a chuckle.

    Raithion smiled and wondered how Azula had ended up the chieftain of the clan. He’d thought Alise would take over the role because she was the firstborn.

    A woman brought them refreshments: a tray laden with fresh apples, a jug of fruit juice, and another of cold water. Haedor poured a glass of the juice for Raithion, who refused the apples. So, Haedor sat on the couch eating apples with fragrant enthusiasm.

    The wait was long but comfortable. An hour later, a young boy ran in through the front door, full of energy as he sprinted down the wide hallway without a glance at them. The man who followed him smiled in greeting as he followed his charge.

    “What a little whirlwind,” Haedor said, amused. “He looks the same age as Yulin, maybe a little older.”

    Raithion nodded, turning to his left. His chair gave him a clear view of the door at the back of the manor. He saw when Azula walked in, leaving the door open and smiling at someone behind him. His lips curved in a devastating smile that brightened his features. He was still so handsome.

    Then the boy who had come in running rushed Azula, hands open wide. Raithion did not hear what he said, but he heard the tail end of the word: “father!”

    The violent dip that ripped through his heart was a surprise. His pulse froze as he watched Azula lean down and lift the boy with a wide smile. Then Azula kissed the boy on his cheeks, holding him close.

    A son. Raithion forced himself to look away. His chest ached at the reality of Azula already belonging to another. Azula was handsome, a prince, and the Sura Clan always married early. At twenty-five, his family would have insisted on his tying the Gordian knot. What had he been expecting?

    Closing his eyes, Raithion gripped the goblet he held until his knuckles whitened. He forced his mind to stop focusing on the crippling disappointment. He had spent five years nursing a ghost, only to find a man who had long since moved on. He wasn’t here to chase after Azula but to seek an amiable agreement with the Sura Clan. The rest was just his bad luck.

    ****

    Azula carried Ruri into the kitchen to check what the baker had in his oven. Senin followed him into the kitchen, moving to open the drawer holding kitchen knives.

    “I can’t believe you have us dealing with goat meat this late in the afternoon. Had we known, we would have started in the morning,” Senin complained as he found the right knife and hurried outside.

    Azula glanced at Ruri, who was eyeing the baked oatmeal cookies laid out on a baking sheet on the large kitchen table. Azula glanced around the kitchen, and when he was sure there was no one to catch them, he moved closer to the cookies. He grabbed two, handing one to Ruri. He popped the other in his mouth, and they ate with relish, sharing wide smiles. When they were almost done, footsteps sounded behind them.

    “Stop,” Alise said, and they both froze.

    Ruri glanced at Azula with wide eyes; then, he stuffed the remaining bit of his cookie into his mouth.

    “Turn around,” Alise said.

    Azula winced and wiped his mouth, then Ruri’s, as he turned with a guilty smile to find Alise standing a few feet away.

    “Caught you stealing cookies and spoiling your dinner,” Alise said, pointing a finger at them. “Confess, how many did you eat?”

    “None,” Azula said, confident he had wiped their faces efficiently.

    “Are you sure?” Alise asked, her eyes narrowing.

    Azula glanced at Ruri, who was nodding his head. Unfortunately, he had crumbs on the corner of his lips. Azula sighed and grinned at Alise.

    “Are you sticking with your story?” Alise asked as she frowned, her hands on her hips. “One big, one small, what am I going to do with you? No cookies before your evening meal. Agreed?”

    Azula nodded, and so did Ruri, making Alise laugh. She held out her hands and took Ruri from Azula. Getting a handkerchief from her pocket, she wiped Ruri’s mouth.

    “Azu, I brought the Draeya Prince and Lord Haedor to the manor,” Alise said, looking at him for a moment. “Juya has convinced the council to meet him tomorrow morning and have a good talk. I know you’ve been postponing, but we really can’t anymore. Yulin is healed. We can’t let them leave without trying. It’s time.”

    Azula sighed. Were the empires all making a move today? One by one, knocking on the door. Azula shook his head.

    “Trevan is outside helping Senin clean goat meat for the bonfire,” Azula said. “You have a Lyrian Prince in the manor. Are you planning on getting them to meet by force?”

    “Perhaps,” Alise said with a small smile. “We don’t need to force anything. The bonfire is at our home. Our guests can mingle. The council is attending, so they can familiarize themselves with the Draeya Prince. As for Trevan, thank him for his continued business, and send him off. It’s a normal evening on Sura Island. The Lyrians can try our barbecue, too. It’s high time they tried our great food. Right, Ruri?”

    “Right,” Ruri said, looking at Azula with triumphant eyes.

    “See, Ruri agrees,” Alise said.

    “I feel tired just thinking about it. So, I’m not playing,” Azula said, reaching under a counter by the washing area to get a bunch of skewers. “You deal with it with Juya’s help. I’m going to help prepare food and deal with Trevan. You entertain the Lyrians.”

    Azula started to head for the door, but slowed down when Ruri wiggled until his mother let him down. The boy came racing after Azula as they walked out, shouting, “Let’s make barbecue skewers!”

    ****

    Alise let out a soft breath as she stood in the empty kitchen, staring at the open back door. Where did her brother inherit his stubborn attitude from?

    Shaking her head, she turned to look at the oatmeal cookies. Thinking about Azula and Ruri with crumbs on their cheeks, she laughed.

    “Naughty devils,” she said and stole a cookie, too, eating it fast before she headed out to entertain the great Draeya Prince and the Lord General until Azula could gain the courage to take over.

    ****

    The bonfire was held in the back courtyard of the Doriel residence. A large, round fire pit was built upon stone tiles in the middle of the backyard. The fire was lit, and the clan members trickled in, helping with food that was grilled over coals on large grills mounted on the ledges of the stone firepit. There were stone tables all around the courtyard, where platters of food were placed for guests. There was no shortage of seats; if not stone stools or benches, people made do with the stone ledges around flower beds or brought chairs from inside the manor.

    Lamps in holders lined the trees, illuminating the courtyard and the cobbled paths leading to the docks and around the manor.

    Raithion loved the warm atmosphere and the laughter that filled the evening air.

    Alise and Juya accompanied Raithion and Haedor, making sure they had a place to sit, enough food and drink, and steady conversation. Alise talked to him about his work in Lyria, his family, Yulin, and his parents. Raithion found himself sharing about Naeri, Yulin’s health, and why he was wearing mourning clothes.

    Raithion decided then that Alise was a true diplomat. She never once let him feel any tension because of their political differences.

    At one point, Alise excused herself to handle a matter. Juya and Haedor were discussing the merits of the carriage they had used earlier in the day.

    Raithion shifted in his seat and noticed Alvas, who had taken care of Yulin, sitting on a flowerbed ledge a few feet away. She had her back turned to him. A tall man came to sit next to her, holding a plate of beef skewers.

    “Kalas, did Prince Azu get enough to eat?” Alvas asked. “He has a terrible habit of taking care of everyone but forgetting himself.”

    “He’s with Trevan. I sent a platter of grilled meat and vegetables to their table,” Kalas said. “Prince Azu is occupied with sending the general off. We can worry about it when he’s done. I don’t know why he’s so nervous about it today. Their relationship has been very good.”

    “How good can it be when one of them was oblivious the whole time?” Alvas asked, her tone filled with wistfulness. “It’s a good thing we have Ruri. Otherwise, there won’t be a next chieftain if we leave it up to the prince.”

    “Alise and Juya seem to be heading toward a marriage,” Kalas said.

    Raithion’s gaze shifted to Juya, who was almost drawing diagrams for Haedor as he animatedly discussed Sura Clan carriages. Azula’s potential brother-in-law looked very passionate. Raithion smiled and sipped his juice, tuning back to Alvas and Kalas’s conversation, shamelessly listening to the gossip.

    “It will be good if the Princess can find happiness again,” Alvas was saying. “Yemin’s death was hard on her. It was lucky she had to protect Ruri, which gave her the strength to keep fighting.”

    “True,” Kalas said with a heavy sigh. “If the prince hadn’t taken over, she might have miscarried and lost Yemin’s son forever. It would have been a devastating tragedy.”

    “It’s all fate,” Alvas said.

    Raithion’s heart skipped.

    “The prince taking over saved Ruri and his sister, allowed our clan to thrive, and get through,” Kalas said.

    Raithion’s heart didn’t just skip; it seemed to restart, a frantic, thrumming rhythm taking hold in his chest. Yemin’s son. The words echoed in his mind, sweeping away the suffocating weight that had crushed his spirit since he first saw the boy. A wave of profound, dizzying relief crashed over him, so intense it made his hands tremble. Azula was single. He was still unattached, unclaimed, and suddenly, impossibly within reach again. The mourning clothes he wore felt a little less heavy, the evening air a little sweeter. He sat up and scanned the courtyard, searching for Azula, but he couldn’t see him.

    Raithion stood, decided to find him, and get his answers straight from the source.

    *****

    “I’m heading out,” Trevan said as Azula stood by his carriage. The bonfire was still ongoing. “You should head back.”

    “We cooked up a storm for you,” Azula said with a small smile. “You’ve ended up leaving early.”

    “I know. It’s better to be on board as we prepare to cast off,” Trevan said, reaching into his coat pocket. He pulled out a sealed envelope and handed it to Azula. “This is for you. I hope you find what you’re looking for in Lyria. I pray the Sura are always carefree. Let me come visit for a bonfire next time.”

    “It’s a plan,” Azula said, taking the envelope and putting it in his jacket pocket.

    Trevan stepped forward and pulled him into a tight hug. He did not give Azula enough time to think about it. He let Azula go and stepped into the open carriage. Azula blinked, and Trevan was already settled inside.

    “See you,” Trevan said, waving at him as the soldiers escorting him to the docks closed the carriage door.

    “Safe travels,” Azula said as the carriage left.

    Azula stood in the quiet driveway for a minute, his thoughts consumed by Trevan Pearcliff. He felt guilty that he could not reciprocate Trevan’s feelings. Perhaps if he weren’t the clan’s chieftain, he might have chosen to return to the Nerasa Kingdom and live with his master, Yantian, at the Sura Clan workshop at Rewa Port. Maybe in time, he might have loved Trevan and learned to live in Nerasa.

    “What are you thinking about, standing alone?” Alise said, walking up to him. She took his hand and turned him toward a path that led around the house to the back courtyard.

    “I was seeing Trevan off,” Azula said. “We talked. I told him I was sorry for not knowing he liked me. He gave me an agreement that I’ll explain later. Now he’s gone back home, they’ll cast off when the tide’s right, and I feel some guilt toward him.”

    “Guilt is natural,” Alise said, squeezing his arm as they walked slowly. “I can genuinely say that Trevan is a good man, and I hope he will find genuine happiness in Nerasa. He’s a statesman. I trust he will keep to the agreements we have put in place. We can thank Juya for pushing for legal agreements with the Nerasa court.”

    “Yes,” Azula said with a nod, also grateful for Juya’s insightfulness.

    They cleared the length of the house and were now at a fork, with one path leading to the dock by the lake and the other to the back courtyard.

    Azula gave the bench by the dock a wistful look.

    “The bonfire is still going,” Alise said.

    “It is,” Azula said. “I need some time to myself.”

    “Okay,” Alise said as they stopped at the fork. “While you and Trevan were saying your goodbyes, I had a good talk with the Draeya Prince. Raithion’s wife, Naeri, died of the poison his son ingested. Her final act was to save Yulin. He now wears mourning clothes because of her. The fact that she was poisoned at all is enough to tell me that he has not lived an easy life. Perhaps the last five years have been full of strife. Having lived through a rough period ourselves, Azula, perhaps you should hear him out so that we find a solution to our standoff with Lyria.”

    Azula glanced at Alise in the lamplight and smiled at her determined look. “Fine, I’ll listen to you, Princess.”

    Azula kissed her cheek. “Tomorrow. For now, let me spend a few minutes alone.”

    “Okay, I’ll go find Mom and Magnus to arrange a council meeting in the morning,” Alise said, letting go of his arm. She headed toward the courtyard, and he started a stroll to the dock.

    When he reached the bench, he sat down and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly.

    Thinking about Raithion hurt. He could not forget the picture of him kneeling while holding his son. Alise was right. If his wife had died of poison, what would he have lived through in the capital?

    “May I join you?” Raithion asked in a soft voice.

    Azula sat still, not moving or turning to look at him. The bonfire party continued in the courtyard, bursts of laughter filling the air. Azula did not answer.

    Raithion did not wait for an invitation. He walked in front of Azula and sat next to him with a soft sigh. He was still dressed in black, like a haunting ghost. The only color on him was his green eyes and the gold clip holding his dark hair. How pitiful, this glorified Draeya General.

    “Are you happy?” Azula found himself asking.

    After everything that had happened between them, that was the only question he wanted to ask.

    “I—” Raithion started, then let out a soft, dry chuckle. “I haven’t had an answer for that question in five years. But after your mom healed Yulin, I can say that, yes, I’m happy now. Happy that Yulin has survived a disaster and got a chance to live. Happy that I’m here, hoping to make amends to you and your people.”

    “What about before?” Azula asked. “Before the poisoning.”

    “Before, I was just surviving one day to the next,” Raithion answered. “Lost in a thick, dark cloud that I could not escape. I married Gesi Ajai’s daughter. Ajai is a devious courtier who has spent years plotting to gain control of the imperial court. His machinations even resulted in Yulin’s poisoning and the death of my wife. It has been a dark hell. I was not happy, Azula.”

    “Then why did you let any of it happen?” Azula asked, unable to keep his anger from rising. “Why didn’t you stand with our clan back then?”

    “I never got the chance,” Raithion said, his voice filled with a desperate energy. “That evening we arrived in Genad City together was when I discovered I was to marry Naeri. It was a plan made by the Basileus and my father. They said they had negotiated with Ajai that if I married Naeri, your clan could escape unscathed. I had no choice but to follow through to protect you. There was nothing I could do to change what happened to your father. It was already too late by the time I discovered it. So, I’ve lived with the choices made that day for five years, until Naeri was poisoned.”

    Azula sat in silence, staring at the lake; the waters were dark in the moonlight. Strangely, the pain in Raithion’s voice was as dark as the lake’s endless depths.

    “You and I have broken promises between us,” Azula said, his voice soft. He crossed his arms and dug into the tight knot in his heart. “You need to tell me everything that happened after we parted, Draeya General. I have lived with a muddled view of the events that led to my father’s death for five years. I need a clearer mind, so you’re going to help me clear my muddled heart.”

    “Okay,” Raithion said. “First, I have one question for you before we delve into the past.”

    Azula frowned and glanced at him. “What question?”

    “Have you tied the Gordian knot with someone?” Raithion asked.

    Azula stared at him for a minute, then shrugged. “I have not,” Azula said with a sigh. “Unlike you, my hair remains unbraided, without promise to some unfortunate soul to share my grief and struggles.”

    Raithion let out a soft breath and then seemed to relax into the bench as he launched into a tale of his arranged marriage, of years living in a sea of aphrodisiac plots in his manor, which resulted in Yulin and a daughter he called Skye.

    Raithion didn’t just speak; he purged. The words spilled out of him like a confession, raw and jagged with the weight of five years. He spoke of his efforts to clear spies from Basileus Dio’s palace and remove military officers loyal to Gesi Ajai throughout the Lyria kingdom.

    It seemed like Raithion’s life had been trapped between a dangerous, ambitious courtier, an even more ambitious Basileus Dio, and two innocent children who met the wrong parents.

    “I did not love her, and in a way, I feel guilty for that,” Raithion said. “I’m wearing these mourning clothes as a way to repent my choices with Naeri. I don’t know if it is enough—it probably never will be—but mourning her is all I can do for her soul.”

    Azula closed his eyes at the pointless nature of Raithion’s arranged marriage.

    “The Basileus used you to stabilize his throne,” Azula said. “Your family’s military strength became the sword he used to cut away the rot in his palace and within the military ranks. He used your sister to stop Gesi Ajai’s daughter from marrying into the Adertha House. And he traded our clan’s innocence to achieve his goals. We had no chance against all that planning.”

    Raithion stayed silent.

    Azula wiped his hand down his face.

    “Then what happened to the thief we caught together?” Azula asked, turning to face him.

    “Are you asking as the Sura Prince or as Azula?” Raithion asked.

    “I don’t know why you think those are two different people,” Azula said. “I told you I need to clear the confusion in my mind. All I remember of my time in Genad City is a scramble to find my father. I never had the chance to chase after you or see what you did with that thief who was stealing our ore.”

    “Fair enough,” Raithion said. “I have the answers you need. But you can only get them when we meet with your council. What I have to say requires a direct answer that you can give me decisively.”

    “Why?” Azula asked.

    “Because I’m willing to fight with you to reopen the case of the forged silver,” Raithion said. “Reopening that case will exonerate your clan, which is something I have wanted to do since they closed it prematurely.”

    “How can I trust your word?” Azula asked.

    “Don’t trust my word,” Raithion said. “I’ll let my actions prove it. I owe you for saving Yulin.”

    “No, we won’t place such a debt on your life or Yulin’s,” Azula said. “Saving lives is what healers do. It was done fairly, and you know my mother was willing. What I need from you, Raithion, is a meeting with Basileus Dio. As the Sura Prince, I want a face-to-face with the Adertha Basileus.”

    “What about the case?” Raithion asked.

    “If we can open the case, we will find the evidence ourselves,” Azula said, then stood and looked at Raithion. “Alise made the right choice, bringing you to the manor. There is a council meeting in the morning. Plan your answers well. I’m sorry about what you had to live through with your wife. I’m happy for you and Yulin that you’ve managed to make it through. Please, enjoy the view of the lake. I’m sure Alise has arranged a comfortable room for you. I’ll see you at the council meeting.”

    Azula looked at Raithion for another minute, then walked away, heading back toward the glow of the bonfire.

    ****

    Raithion watched Azula walk away with a small smile. His heart felt lighter, as though sharing the jagged truth of the past five years with Azula had finally drained away the festering anger and shame he’d carried like a crippling weight for so long. He felt a dizzying, unfamiliar sense of freedom, as if he had finally stepped out from the shadows and into the light.

    He was elated that Azula was free. It felt like the start of hope. A small start, but he reached out and held on to it tight.

    Settling on the bench, Raithion took a deep breath, appreciating the cool night air, and stared at the quiet lake, feeling like he was finally looking at a fresh start.

    *****

    <<Previous | Blades of ToC | Next>>

  • Blades of Ashes Ch 14

    Azula rode a fast horse from the Old Docks back to the Doriel Manor. At some point in the last year, the Sura people had started calling it the Prince’s Manor. He had no choice but to accept their respect, but at this point, it was the hardest thing he could ever face. Being chieftain of the Sura clan made his heart ache, especially when he had to face a man he’d once thought of as being as strong as a god; a man who, after seeing him for the first time in five years, he still wanted to care for. He still wanted to know him.

    What the hell had happened to the Draeya General? Why was he so thin? Why did he look so sad? Why would he dare to kneel before him without protest? Where was the strong general who had argued with him on a balcony?

    Azula dismounted his horse when he reached the manor’s front gate and raced inside, unsure what to do. He ran up the stairs to the first floor and opened the door to Alise’s reading room before he could think. He stopped when he saw her sitting on a couch by a window, reading one of the little pale blue books that were reports from their merchants in the Nerasa Kingdom. She paused when she saw him, and he crossed the room in fast strides, kneeling on the hardwood floor covered with a woven red carpet. He rested his head on her lap and closed his eyes. His fingers bunched the smooth pink silk of her day dress.

    Alise sighed and sank her fingers into his hair, stroking it gently.

    “Azula, what has you running so hard to hide in my reading room?” Alise asked, her voice gentle and soothing.

    Azula took a deep breath and relaxed on her lap.

    “Lise, will you take this mantle back?” Azula asked. “I have protected the clan. We are not in mourning anymore. Can I give it back now?”

    Alise sighed and rubbed his back, as she usually did to soothe Ruri.

    “I know it’s been hard, but you’ve done so well,” Alise said. “Azu, we’re entering a critical time. Now that someone from the Lyria Kingdom has come, we need to navigate the most dangerous period. I know you say you have no opinion on the matter, but I know what’s in your heart.”

    Azula shifted his head so that he could open his eyes. He stared at the window and the bright sky. The sky was blue and bright, as though mocking his turmoil.

    “What’s in my heart?” he asked, his voice quiet, as he dared not figure out what truly lay there.

    “Many hidden feelings,” Alise said, then stroked his hair some more. “But the lack of braids in your hair is the most obvious clue to it all. You still mourn our father, Azu. Your heart is heavy with thoughts of missing him. I suspect you hope you could discover why he died. You wish for his redemption, and because you do, so does the clan. Am I wrong?”

    Azula closed his eyes, not wanting to see the bright sky.

    “I cannot take the mantle from you yet,” Alise said, her tone soothing. “For your own sake, you need to find a way to lift the weight of grief from your shoulders. You may need to travel to Genad City in the Lyria Kingdom to find out the reason why Marius Doriel had to die; only then will your heart lighten. Little brother, I will wait until then.”

    Azula sighed, thinking about Raithion Maenaer. He had never taken the time to explain what happened during his journey to Genad City five years ago. While Alise was burdened with saving the clan and finding a way to survive, he had never shared what happened with the Draeya General. He had held his tongue for five years, but now… now he needed to tell Alise the truth.

    “The man who has landed on our shores is Draeya Prince,” Azula said, his voice soft. “When I met him at the port city, he was the Draeya General. I was naive then and recruited him to protect our carriage on the journey to Genad City.”

    “You’ve never mentioned this,” Alise said, her hand still rubbing his back.

    “Too many things were happening at once in those days,” Azula said, shifting so that he sat comfortably. Alise patted his back in understanding.

    “What did the Draeya prince do for you?” Alise asked.

    “Nothing,” Azula said. The word was heavy, his tone filled with annoyance.

    Alise’s hand paused, then she tilted her head so that she could look at Azula’s face. He caught her inquiring gaze and closed his eyes.

    “The Draeya Prince caught the thief who stole our ore,” Azula continued with a heavy sigh. “He promised that he would get the thief to the authorities and clear our good name. When we reached Genad City, we separated. I hurried to our manor in the city, only to find you and our parents were in chaos. Later, we found Dad and Yemin. I could not forgive him for failing to save them.”

    Alise gripped Azula’s shoulders and pushed him to sit up and face her.

    “What?” Alise stared at him in shock, her green eyes wide. “What about the thief the Draeya Prince caught?”

    Azula shook his head. “Only the Draeya Prince knows where that thief went.”

    Alise stared at him in shock.

    “Are you saying he framed us?” Alise asked.

    Azula closed his eyes, and then, because he had thought about it for five years, he shook his head.

    “The timeline doesn’t work,” Azula said, his tone solemn. “The night we arrived in the capital, Dad had already been arrested, according to what you’ve told me. We ran around until we found him together late that night. The Draeya Prince came into the city with me. He would not have had time to do the framing. What I suspect is that he knows the truth of that case and who did the framing.”

    “You’ve carried this alone for five years,” Alise said, touching his cheek with trembling hands. “Oh, Azula, why didn’t you share it with me? I would have helped.”

    “We needed to save everyone,” Azula said. “This was not something we needed to deal with at that time. Now, here he is at our shore. We must deal with it. Or Wolfe will start a riot because of his son if we try to make friends, and he is justified in it. I need to be hard on the Draeya Prince as the Sura Prince, to make him clear our clan’s name and give Wolfe and others like him the justice they deserve. Lise, I don’t know if I have the strength to be hard on that man, not when my heart is so torn.”

    Alise studied him for a minute, then her eyes widened again, and she stood up to walk to the window. Her socked feet were silent on the carpet. Her long hair was decorated with braids. Some looked messy because they were made by Ruri, but they all added to her beauty.

    Azula remained seated on the floor, waiting for her to process what she’d seen in his eyes. Then, Alise returned to sit on her chair, meeting his gaze.

    “You,” Alise said. “Has your heart been stolen by a Lyrian prince?”

    “No,” Azula said. “We never got a chance to try, or even see if we could be something. Tragedy descended. I forgot about it.”

    “Until today,” Alise said, leaning in to look into his eyes.

    Azula felt the heavy conflict of his position. He was a prince of a grieving people, but he was also a man who still felt a traitorous pull toward the very person tied to their pain.

    Azula swallowed hard, then looked away because he could not lie to her. He had been shocked to see Raithion so ravaged. And why was he dressed in black while holding such a young child?

    “The Draeya Prince,” Azula said, his voice trembling slightly as he stared at the carpet. “He begged for his son’s life as he knelt on the beach. He wore black clothes from head to toe. Do you know why people in Lyria would wear such black clothes?”

    “Black clothes.” Alise sat back with a surprised expression. “He’s in mourning.”

    “Mourning?” Azula gaped. “What? Do you think something happened to his family? He was keen to tell me that he loved his sisters very much. I…”

    “Azula Doriel,” Alise said, interrupting him.

    Azula glanced at her and let out a soft sigh. “Now you see why you should take the lead.”

    “I won’t,” Alise said, her voice firm yet supportive. “I do worry that he is a man who might have hurt our clan. I worry that you won’t forgive yourself for letting him into your heart when you do. Most of all, I’m glad you’re thinking of coming out from under the cloud of grief.”

    “Azu, you’ll do everything you need to,” Alise said. “If you do choose him for your lifelong promise, you’ll need to win the clan’s support to marry a Lyrian prince after everything we’ve been through. So, you’re going to find a way for the Draeya Prince and the Sura Clan to exist without wanting to fight to the death. It’s the only way you’ll calm your heart, Azu. I will stand by whatever choice you make, but you must make it work for both yourself and our people.”

    Azula stared at Alise for a moment, then he returned to resting his head on her lap again and closed his eyes.

    ****

    Relief flooded Raithion when Lasma returned with another woman named Alvas. Lasma carried a tray laden with containers of herbs, and Alvas carried a large bucket and a stack of clean white towels. Lasma placed the tray on the worktable and moved to stand before Raithion.

    “First, I will explain what we need to do,” Lasma said. “Your family has been touched by poison. So, I know the importance of you knowing what your son is ingesting.”

    Raithion nodded with a small smile, a gratifying sense of ease filling his chest.

    “Now, what I need from you is absolute cooperation,” Lasma continued. “No doubt or hesitation. I need your trust. So, I have a question for you, Draeya Prince Raithion Maenaer. Can you trust me?”

    Raithion stood and held Lasma’s gaze. “Yes.”

    “Good. Then your son can be saved.”

    Lasma turned to Dain. “What do I call you?”

    “Dain.”

    “Dain, please help us carry a large tub into the room,” Lasma said. “Alvas will show you where it is.”

    Dain followed Alvas out of the room, leaving the door open.

    “Draeya Prince, what can I call you that is not so formal?” Lasma asked with a helpless smile.

    “Please call me Raith.”

    “Raith.” Lasma moved to the bed. “Help me strip the boy. What’s his name?”

    “Yulin.”

    “What a lovely name,” Lasma said as she pulled the cover back. Yulin was still shivering, and his breathing was shallow.

    Raithion sat on the bed and lifted Yulin into a sitting position. His hands trembled with a mix of frantic hope and terror as he made short work of the jacket they had put on the boy on the ship. He then removed the trousers and the inner shirt.

    “Let him keep his underwear shorts,” Lasma murmured, her hand pressed to Yulin’s forehead.

    Dain and Alvas returned. Dain carried a large wooden tub, and Alvas carried a large pail of steaming water. They placed the tub near the worktable. Lasma got up from the bed and tested the temperature of the water before she added cool water from the sink. When Alvas returned with enough warm water to fill the tub, they worked together, adjusting the water temperature until it was a safe, comforting warmth.

    Lasma hurried to the worktable to open the herb containers. Alvas brought in a small, lit charcoal burner and placed an earthen kettle filled with clean water on the flame. The bitter scent of medicinal roots began to rise in the air.

    Lasma urged Raithion and Dain closer. She pointed to the herbs in the containers.

    “Silver Malice seems difficult to cure because the Lyria Kingdom does not have the herbs needed readily. The second difficult thing is timing. The herbs we use to make the antidote are sanguine cassia, moon chives, jade blossom, and red lavage.”

    “The red lavage grows wild on our mountain, so the Nerasa Kingdom trades with us as it grows easily on our soil. I’m going to crush the sanguine cassia into a pulp, then add it to the heating water. Once the water and pulp have come to a boil, we’ll add the remaining herbs and let them simmer. Then,” Lasma pulled a shimmering herb from her pocket, “we’ll add this to complete the antidote.”

    Dain and Raithion watched, mesmerized, as Lasma used a mortar and pestle to pound the sanguine cassia. She added the paste to the steaming water, then chopped the remaining herbs and added them to the boiling kettle. When the potion was simmering, the liquid turned green and began to roll with large bubbles. Lasma added the shimmering herb. It dissolved instantly, and the liquid turned perfectly clear.

    “Okay, let’s do a check,” Lasma said. Alvas scooped a small amount of the potion into a white porcelain bowl. Lasma donned a pair of gloves and reached for the teacup containing the Silver Malice.

    “Why do you need the poisoned tea?” Dain asked.

    “To make sure the antidote is the right consistency,” Lasma said.

    She looked at Alvas, who held out the bowl filled with the boiling portion. Lasma poured a single drop of the tea into the clear liquid. She used a silver pin to mix it and waited. The liquid turned a bright, vibrant yellow. Alvas and Lasma both let out relieved sighs. They discarded the poisoned mixtures and thoroughly cleaned the sink.

    “We are ready,” Lasma said. “Carry Yulin and let’s place him in the tub. His body temperature is very low, and it needs to be higher.”

    Raithion nodded and hurried to the bed. He removed his black jacket, rolled his sleeves, and unbuttoned his collar. He lifted Yulin and carried him to the warm water. Yulin whimpered and clutched Raithion’s shirt. Raithion murmured soft, broken comforts as he settled the boy into the tub.

    Lasma pulled a stool from under the worktable. She sat on it and gave Raithion a reassuring smile. “We’re going to feed Yulin the antidote. All of it, until he vomits the toxin sitting in his stomach. You see, Harrow and Mutagen don’t get absorbed into the system. Instead, they stay there and generate toxins that poison the blood system. The herbs in the antidote are for pulling the toxins these poisons are making in the body, and Yulin will have to vomit them out. It is terrible work, but we have to do it so that he can be saved. Are you ready, Raith?”

    Raithion nodded and knelt on the floor to support Yulin’s back. Alvas returned with two large buckets. She placed them next to Lasma, then got a new porcelain bowl. She added some of the antidote and put in three spoons of cold water to reduce the heat, then handed it to Lasma.

    Lasma fed the antidote to Yulin, supporting the back of his neck as she tilted the bowl to the boy’s lips and urged him to drink the potion with soothing tones. Yulin was a quiet boy and followed instructions without fuss, drinking as he was urged, his eyes sliding open for a moment. He panicked when he saw Lasma, but then relaxed when Raithion murmured words of encouragement.

    Once Yulin had drunk three bowls of the antidote, Lasma rubbed his back carefully as the boy trembled in the warm water. Then Yulin heaved, and Lasma lifted one of the buckets, urging him to throw up. When it started, Raithion felt his heart clench at the force of the act and the tears that filled Yulin’s eyes.

    Yulin shook and trembled, clutching Raithion’s hand tight and leaning on him when he got too tired. It was the most difficult thing Raithion had ever done in his life: watching his son suffer so much and being unable to do anything to help him. Tears stung his eyes, blurring the sight of his son’s pale face.

    “We’re almost there,” Lasma murmured at some point as she changed buckets and Dain took over the work of carrying the used bucket away, helping Alvas clean up.

    ****

    Azula followed Alise to the healer’s cove an hour before sunset. He had changed into a simple green tunic and trousers, and a wool coat he wore when he was home. They used a carriage to get to the healing center. Alise climbed out of the carriage first, carrying Ruri. Azula trailed after her, unsure what expression he should use when he faced Raithion again. Alise wanted to get to know Raithion and his men and check on Lasma.

    Azula had followed because he wanted to know more about Raithion’s mourning clothes. Who had died? Why did Raithion look so worn out?

    Shaking his head, he entered the healer’s cove after Alise and paused when he saw his godfather, Magnus, standing in the waiting area with his hands crossed against his chest.

    “Godfather,” Azula said, as Alise moved to kiss Magnus’s cheek before she turned to their guests with a smile. “Welcome to Sura Island.”

    The two men sitting on the chairs by the windows nodded in her direction, and she turned back to Magnus.

    “How is it going?” Alise asked.

    “The worst of it has ended,” Magnus said with a sigh. “Lasma and Alvas are helping them clean up the boy and settle him in a new room where it smells clean and is comfortable.”

    “Okay,” Alise nodded and moved to sit on one of the empty chairs, holding a subdued Ruri on her lap. “We can wait for her here.”

    Azula smiled because he knew Alise hated the smell of sickness; she would wait for as long as it took if it meant not having to enter an active ward.

    Azula had no such qualms.

    “I’ll check on Mom,” he said and headed down the corridor before Magnus could stop him.

    He walked down the corridor and found one of the cleaners working in the first ward, stripping the bed and opening the windows to air it out. The cleaner glanced up, saw Azula, and urged him to keep walking down the corridor to the next ward.

    Azula thanked him and hurried to the second door. He paused at the door when he heard Lasma talking gently to Raithion.

    “You’ve done everything for him, Raith,” Lasma said. “You’re a good father. Don’t doubt that. Now, we’ve cleared the poison, but we won’t know for sure until his temperature reduces. He may burn hot all night, so we’ll feed him some medicine to help break the fever. We’ll hope for the best in the morning. I’ll stay with you, so will Alvas. We’ll be with you through this.”

    “I need to settle my people,” Raithion said, his voice hoarse. “They should get a hot meal and a place to rest.”

    “Oh yes,” Lasma said, sounding tired.

    Azula sighed and knocked on the door to announce his presence. He stepped deeper into the ward and paused when he saw the frail boy sleeping on the bed.

    Lasma sat on one side, while Raithion was crouched on the other. He held the boy’s hand tight, his head bowed as he looked at the sleeping boy.

    Lasma glanced at Azula and smiled. “You came back.”

    “Mm, it’s evening. We need to settle you and plan meals,” Azula said. “I’ve heard your plans. I’ll get Senin and everyone to start a meal here and clean the residential rooms on the third floor for our guests.”

    “Sounds good,” Lasma said, relieved. “I’m glad you’ll handle it. It frees me so that I can concentrate on getting Yulin’s fever to break.”

    Azula’s gaze shifted to a silent Raithion; then he asked Lasma, “W-will he survive?”

    “We are very hopeful,” Lasma said. “Right, Raith?”

    Raithion lifted his gaze to meet Azula’s, his expression filled with a pure, fragile hope that lit him up as a smile curved his lips. It caught Azula off guard.

    “Yes, we are hopeful,” Raithion said. “Thank you for helping to save my son.”

    Azula turned away from Raithion’s handsome smile. With a small scowl on his face, he turned to leave. “That’s good news. I’ll go make arrangements.”

    Once outside the ward, he pressed a hand to his chest and frowned, scolding himself.

    Why are you so happy about him smiling? He means nothing to you. Stupid idiot. So easily moved.

    ****

    <<Previous | Blades of Ashes ToC | Next>>

  • Blades of Ashes Ch 13

    Azula finished crushing nuts for the children, then sat back, his gaze fixed on the ship approaching from the horizon. The mere thought of the clan council debating their stance on the Lyria Kingdom brought on the dull throb of a budding headache. He pressed his index finger to his temple, closed his eyes, and took several measured, calming breaths.

    Who would dare sail for Sura Island? Most Lyrian citizens still blamed the Sura for the economic collapse five years ago, going so far as to boycott the ore from Sura Mountain, or so reports from their friend on the mainland claimed. Unless a particularly daring merchant from the outer lands was aboard, which seemed unlikely, no one from Lyria had visited their small island for trade in years.

    Azula’s scowl deepened, and he opened his eyes. He watched the vessel crawl closer, his jaw tightening. He had been wondering how to engage the damn Lyria Kingdom, and now they were delivering themselves to his doorstep. He took a deep breath, stretching his arms high above his head with a soft sigh. As he lowered his hands, he smiled at Ruri, who was dutifully imitating him, hands resting firmly on his small thighs.

    “Ruri, blow your whistle for your godfather,” Azula said.

    “Okay!” Ruri reached for a silver chain tucked beneath the collar of his green tunic. At the end hung a small gold whistle that Azula had crafted himself. The guards assigned to Ruri were trained to respond to its piercing note regardless of distance or terrain.

    Ruri blew a sharp blast and tucked the gold back into his tunic. Within two minutes, ten men clad in black tactical gear filled the clearing.

    “Daiku greets Your Highness,” the leader said, stepping forward and nodding at Azula.

    “Take Ruri to his mother,” Azula said. “Then, tell Wolfe and General Nuovis to meet me at the old docks, the ones we used back when we still traded with Lyria.”

    “Godfather, I want to come with you!” Ruri protested. He stood tall, hands on his waist in a picture of innocent defiance.

    Azula smiled, reaching out to stroke the boy’s cheek. Ruri’s face was a perfect replica of Yemin’s, softened by Alise’s features. His strawberry-blond hair was tied back in a tight ponytail, and his tiny tunic and trousers made Azula wonder if the boy would ever hit his growth spurt.

    “Ruri, I need you with Daiku. Your job is to protect your mother. Understand?”

    “What about you?” Ruri asked, his brow furrowed. “Who will protect you?”

    “I have Wolfe,” Azula reassured him. “Besides, I’m just going to greet our guests and see if they like macadamia nuts.”

    Azula winked and kissed the boy’s cheeks before lifting him into Daiku’s arms. “Take the boys to their parents. And do not alert anyone outside the council about our newcomers.”

    “As you command,” Daiku said, holding Ruri protectively as he led the team away.

    Azula turned and moved deeper into the forest, taking the mountain slopes toward his workshop. He slipped inside, ignoring Heng, who was busy tutoring apprentices in the back room. At his worktable, Azula rummaged through blueprints and unfinished pieces until he found his latest project: a modified crossbow. It featured a sleek, foldable limb and a custom cartridge holding ten bolts for rapid reloading. He’d used it on rabbits, but never on men.

    He glanced down at his simple tunic and sighed, his eyes falling on the long coat Alise had commissioned for him. She insisted it befitted his station, and though he hated the formality of daily wear, its utility was undeniable. He threw the heavy, midnight-blue coat over his shoulders. The high-quality wool fell to his mid-calf, structured and imposing. He cinched a wide leather belt over the coat, sliding the folded crossbow into a specialized holster at his hip and securing a bronze spyglass into a matching leather casing on his opposite side.

    Now looking the part of a chieftain, Azula waved a silent dismissal at a curious Heng and left the workshop. He took an overgrown path toward the coast.
    He reached the old docks first. While the clan had shifted its commerce toward the Nerasa Kingdom to the northeast, the village elders had kept these western docks in good repair. The wood was sturdy and free of rot, though the shifting rocks beneath the waves remained a nightmare for any captain unfamiliar with the approach.

    The beach was eerily quiet. Normally, the white sands would be teeming with families, but with the children in school, the docks were deserted.

    Azula climbed to a high stone vantage point and unfurled his spyglass. He ignored the snap of the white sails, searching instead for the colors. He hissed a curse. Flying in the wind was a black flag emblazoned with a gold crest. It was the mark of an Imperial official. He collapsed the spyglass with a sharp clack.

    At the thought of the Lyria Kingdom, his mind flashed to the political entanglements that led to his father’s death and the face of Draeya Prince. The suppressed frustration of years of isolation bubbled up; he didn’t vent it with a cry, but with a sharp, violent kick to a loose stone. It skittered down the gentle slope to the white beach sands, a singular outlet for the anger he couldn’t show at will anymore. By the time Wolfe and Tanya arrived, his face was a mask of the Sura Prince who stood for every member of the Sura Clan.

    Tanya leveled her own spyglass at the ship and sighed. “An Imperial ship. The Basileus has sent a messenger. I suppose I should have known he wouldn’t forget us.”

    “Who do you think is on board?” Wolfe asked.

    “Draeya Prince,” Tanya replied grimly. “He oversees the imperial commandery. He wouldn’t overlook this island; it’s the perfect defensive position for a war against Nerasa.”

    Azula’s expression didn’t flicker. He had processed the irritation; now, there was only the mission. “We will receive them exactly as we would the Nerasa royalty.”

    “If that is your wish,” Tanya said. “I’ll summon a troop to provide a proper escort.”

    Wolfe looked at the approaching ship, his hand resting on his sword hilt. “Are you sure about this?”

    “I’m not sure of anything,” Azula said, his voice steady as he looked Wolfe in the eye. “The council wanted a solution to our standoff with Lyria. Here it is. At best, we negotiate a peace. At worst, Draeya Prince will make an excellent hostage.”

    Wolfe grinned, the tension breaking at the prospect of a fight. He nodded to Azula and hurried off with Tanya to deploy the soldiers for their guests’ arrival.

    *****

    Raithion paced the length of his cabin, the walls feeling tighter with every league the ship gained on Sura Island. A cold knot of anxiety twisted in his gut, a sensation he hadn’t felt since his first border skirmish at seventeen. Back then, the battle-hardened men defending the Lyria Kingdom from invaders had been so brutal in their vengeance that the sight had made him retch. He never imagined he would one day wield a blade with the same grim precision. Now he was a Draeya Prince with thousands of men at his command, unafraid of combat, yet he felt as though he wanted to crawl into a dark closet rather than face the people on Sura Island.

    He stopped at the window, took a jagged breath, and turned back toward the door.

    “You’re making us all dizzy,” Haedor remarked from the table, casually biting into a meat-filled bun. Sharian and Dain sat beside him, eating with a calm that bordered on indifference. “You should eat something before we disembark. The Sura may not want to feed us.”

    “I’m not hungry,” Raithion said, pivoting his path. He approached the table and retrieved the sealed envelope from Basileus Dio. For days, he had stared at it, trying to script a way to negotiate with the Sura Chief. Every draft failed. He tucked the letter into the inner pocket of his heavy black coat. The dark clothes served as a reminder of the three-month mourning period he was still observing.

    He didn’t dare look at his face in the mirror. He had to keep his focus: he was here to beg and bargain for his son’s life, not to seek out Azula Doriel. As he turned away from the table, Raithion frowned as a thought filled his mind.

    What if Azula had married? Five years was an eternity. The Sura were known for marrying young; the old chieftain used to host mass weddings at his manor in the capital every rest day. The image of Azula with a Sura spouse, a man or woman who shared his life, his bed, and his secrets, ignited a dizzying, suffocating, bitter wave of jealousy.

    Why do you care? He scolded himself, his heart hammering against his ribs. You were married. You have two children. Azula owes you nothing.

    Raithion sighed, resuming his restless march. He had lost Azula the moment they parted in Genad City. Every choice since that moment, from helping his father and Basileus Dio suppress the evidence Azula needed, the subsequent death of Azula’s kin, and the desperate race to the port as the Sura escaped, had been a betrayal. He had no right to expect anything but Azula’s unadulterated anger and disdain. And yet, a hopeful part of him whispered that Azula might still be single, that there might be a sliver of a chance to fight for that spark he had felt on the carriage while they played a game of chess. He hoped fiercely.

    A sharp knock broke his reverie. A legion officer opened the door and saluted. “We’ve arrived, Draeya Prince. We’ll need a skiff to reach the shore. Who will be joining you?”

    The anxiety didn’t vanish, but it settled into a heavy, resolute calm. The time for pacing was over.

    “Dain, Yulin, Haedor, and Sharian,” Raithion commanded.

    “You need a proper guard,” Haedor argued, standing up.

    “Not here,” Raithion said firmly. “I must step onto Sura Island as a desperate father, not a conquering prince. No matter what happens, no one draws a weapon. We follow their lead until I can negotiate.”

    Haedor muttered a curse, but the officer nodded. Sharian and Dain moved quickly to wrap young Yulin for the excursion, leaving the nanny on the main ship to care for little Skye.

    As Haedor rowed the small boat toward the beach, Raithion held Yulin close. The docks were empty, but Raithion doubted the silence of the island. It felt more like a trap than a welcome.

    “Do you think they’ll ambush us?” Haedor asked, his eyes scanning the treeline.

    “Yes,” Raithion said with absolute certainty.

    “You’re far too calm for a man about to face a losing battle,” Dain noted from the back of the boat.

    “I lost everything that mattered a long time ago,” Raithion said softly, tightening his grip on his son. All he had left was a plea for mercy.

    When the boat scraped the sand, Haedor leaped out into the surf. They had bypassed the wooden docks, opting for a stretch of pristine white beach. Haedor steadied Raithion as he stepped out, the weight of a feverish, sleeping Yulin heavy in his arms. Dain and Sharian followed, but they hadn’t taken five steps before a cloud of arrows hissed through the air, thudding into the sand just inches from their boots.

    “Don’t move!” Raithion barked, his eyes darting to Haedor. “Do not draw your sword.”

    Haedor’s fists were white-knuckled at his sides as he stepped in front of Raithion, shielding him with his body. They turned toward the slope overlooking the beach.

    Raithion’s breath hitched. A formidable line of nearly a hundred soldiers stood along the ridge, dressed in uniforms he didn’t recognize. They wore sharp, double-breasted black overcoats with silver buttons and structured military collars accented in gold. Burgundy patches marked their shoulders, and their black trousers were tucked into polished combat boots. Each man carried a sword and a notched crossbow, their strawberry-blond hair pulled into identical, disciplined ponytails. They moved as one, a cohesive, lethal machine. They were well-trained.

    Raithion took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. He waited for the head of this army to arrive, and he wasn’t disappointed. On a sandy path to his right, four figures started a slow, leisurely descent to the beach.

    The first was a massive, imposing man in a crisp white shirt and black trousers, with a wide leather belt around his hips. His hair was intricately braided and pinned back with a heavy leather clip. Beside him walked a woman in a white dress with a voluminous skirt embroidered with gold filigree. Her short sleeves revealed ancient Sanskrit-style prayer lines tattooed in dark ink along her upper arms. Her long hair was in a neat, tight braid down her back. She moved with a regal grace, gold bracelets clinking softly.

    Behind them walked a lean man in a deep burgundy variation of the soldier’s uniform. His military jacket had three gold lines circling his wrists, a clear mark of high rank compared to the rank-and-file soldiers.

    Next to him walked a fourth person whom Raithion could not see clearly. Still, Raithion’s heart skipped a beat at the possibility. It was strange, but he always remembered Azula’s hair decorated with two braids that held the long strands in place.

    He was sure this was not Azula, as his hair was long and brushed straight with no braid in sight. Instead, his hair was brushed straight back to his shoulder blades, held by a simple clip to keep the long strands from his face. He wore a midnight-blue, high-collared greatcoat that looked both elegant and weathered. Its structured torso featured patterned bronze lapels and heavy, sealed pauldrons on the shoulders, while the long tails of the coat were split to allow for easy movement. A layered, embossed leather utility belt cinched his waist, housing metallic-accented holsters and scabbards that looked weathered from actual use. Raithion caught a glimpse of weathered black boots and dark trousers as they approached.

    And then, the group of four people shifted, and Raithion’s breath caught as he recognized Azula as the man with no braids in his hair. He looked so handsome; Raithion forgot how to breathe for a moment.

    Intense brown eyes stared at him. Raithion took in the stunning face that had grown only more so with time. Raithion took in every detail with devotion, from the perfect, slightly square chin and clean-shaven jaw to the defined nose, high cheekbones, and the perfect curve of his lips, even though they were now set in a grim line.
    Suddenly, Raithion wished for the Azula who had laughed easily with his eyes sparkling with mischief.

    Now, as Azula closed the distance between them, there was no sign of the playful young man he had first met in an inn five years ago. Instead, a hardened man stared at him with a challenge.

    Raithion took in a jagged, rugged breath as Azula stopped an arm’s length away.

    Azula’s right hand rose with terrifying fluidity. In a heartbeat, he was leveling a modified crossbow directly at Raithion’s chest, the bolt already notched.
    Azula met Raithion’s surprised gaze.

    “Master of the Blades of Ashes,” Azula greeted. “Unless your ship is sinking, I see no reason for you to be on my shore. State your business quickly so we can see you off. Sura Island is an independent territory. We no longer bow to the Lyria Kingdom.”

    Raithion breathed out, grappling with the indifferent look in Azula’s eyes. He cleared his throat, his heart hammering against his ribs in a fine blend of tragic affection.

    “Azula…”

    “You are addressing the Chieftain of our clan,” the imposing man in the white shirt and dark trousers interrupted, stepping up to Azula’s left. “He is Prince Azula Doriel. You will address him as Prince Azula, Chief Azula, or His Highness. We are an independent nation. Show your respect to our leaders.”

    Raithion didn’t look away from Azula. He simply nodded, acknowledging the title.

    Raithion held Azula’s gaze, refusing to believe Azula would really shoot him with an arrow. Taking a slow, deliberate step past Haedor’s protective stance, Raithion adjusted his grip on the sick child and began to sink to the sand.

    Azula’s expression didn’t flicker. His hand remained rock-steady, the tip of the crossbow tracking Raithion’s movement until it was pointed directly between Raithion’s eyes as Raithion knelt in the sand.

    Haedor hissed a curse, but seeing Raithion on his knees, he, Dain, and Sharian followed suit.

    “Prince Azula,” Raithion said, letting his raw desperation bleed into his voice. “Our ship is fine. I haven’t come for politics or war. I have come to beg. My son, Yulin, was poisoned with Silver Malice in the capital. I seek your clan’s legendary skill for an antidote. Without it, he will die.”

    Azula stared at Raithion, unflinching and unmoving. His hand remained steady as he pointed the crossbow at Raithion’s head.

    Raithion stared at the arrow notched in the crossbow.

    If Azula pulled the trigger, the arrow would go straight between his eyes, and it would be over in a second. Raithion watched him, silent and vulnerable, trusting the ghost of the man he had known five years ago.

    “Why should we show you mercy?” Azula asked after a long, suffocating silence.

    “I have no answer that can heal what Lyria did to you,” Raithion admitted, looking up at him. “I am at your mercy. I can only offer a solemn promise: I will do anything you ask. I will pay any price. Just save my son.”

    Azula scoffed, a bitter sound. “I’ve heard that promise before.”

    “Please,” Raithion whispered. “The boy is innocent. You have the antidote. If you help him, I’ll do anything you want, Your Highness.”

    Azula flinched almost imperceptibly at the title “Your Highness,” or perhaps at the weight of the plea.

    Then, a hand adorned with gold bracelets reached out, resting gently on the frame of Azula’s crossbow.

    “The child is innocent,” the woman said softly. She looked at Raithion with a flicker of pity. “We are not heartless people here. My name is Lasma Doriel, and I am a healer.” She turned to Azula. “We protect the innocent, regardless of the sins of their fathers.”

    Azula’s jaw tightened. “If that is what you wish, then so be it.” He lowered the crossbow, though the tension in his shoulders didn’t fade. “We will treat the child. But the moment he is stable, I want you and your people off this island.”

    Azula looked at Raithion one last time, a gaze that felt like a door slamming shut, before turning on his heel.

    “Leave fifty men on the beach!” Azula shouted to his generals as he walked away. “Monitor the Lyrians. Report any movement that isn’t strictly necessary for the boy’s care.”

    “Yes, Your Highness!” the soldiers barked in unison.

    Raithion remained on his knees in the white sand, trembling with a mixture of crushing relief and the agonizing realization that while his son might live, the Azula he met so long ago was gone.

    *****

    Lasma was the one who stepped forward, her touch gentle but firm as she urged Raithion to his feet. She pressed a hand to Yulin’s forehead, her brow furrowing the moment she felt the heat radiating from his skin.

    “Oh, he’s burning up,” she murmured. “Come. I’ll lead you to our nearest healing center; it’s a short walk from here. You will need to explain everything you’ve done to keep him alive since he ingested the poison.”

    Raithion exhaled a jagged breath of relief. He followed Lasma as she veered onto a path that skirted the wooden docks. Two Sura soldiers trailed them closely, their hands never far from their weapons, while the hulking man who had corrected Raithion’s address of Azula shadowed their every move.

    “Magnus, I’ll be fine,” Lasma said over her shoulder. “Go check on Azu.”

    “I’m staying with you,” Magnus grunted, his pace unyielding. He shot Raithion a look of pure irritation as they reached the main thoroughfare.

    Raithion, however, hardly noticed the scowl. He was too busy staring. Expecting a village crippled by five years of trade isolation, he was instead met with a picture of serene prosperity. A wide, well-maintained road led into a settlement of beautiful whitewashed houses, their porches framed by lush trees and vibrant, carefully tended gardens. He caught Haedor’s eye, seeing his own shock reflected there.

    There was no sign of the destitution Lyria had expected to inflict upon the Sura Clan. Instead, the people they passed appeared healthy and content, moving with a purposeful ease that spoke of a thriving society. The air itself felt different, cleaner, lighter, and wholly carefree.

    Lasma led them toward a modest three-story building nestled within a small grove. A hand-painted sign out front read Healer’s Cove. Lasma didn’t hesitate, pushing through the open doors with the air of someone who owned the space.

    A young woman in a crisp white dress, accented by a single gold stripe running from shoulder to hem, hurried to meet them. A modest scarf covered her hair, and her movements were quick and efficient.

    “Lady Lasma, what brings you to the Cove?” she asked, her eyes widening. “Are you injured?”

    “Not me, Hana,” Lasma said, taking the girl’s hand briefly to calm her. “There is a boy in need of urgent care. They claim it’s Silver Malice. I need you to fetch Alvas from the Prince’s Manor immediately.”

    “Right away,” Hana said, casting a wary, lingering glance at Raithion and his people before vanishing down a hallway.

    Lasma turned back to Raithion. “This way. You may lay the boy down in a private ward. Only one of you may stay with him; the rest will wait here.”

    She pointed to a sun-drenched sitting area by the windows. Magnus stepped into the center of the room, crossing his arms to ensure Haedor, Sharian, and Dain didn’t move an inch further.

    “Wait,” Raithion said, adjusting Yulin’s weight in his arms. He gestured toward Dain. “This is Dain. He has been managing Yulin’s treatment since the beginning.”
    Lasma glanced at Magnus, who looked ready to protest, then sighed. “Fine. He may come. The rest of you, stay put.”

    Raithion gave Haedor and Sharian a sharp, reassuring nod and followed Lasma down a quiet, sterile corridor. She swung open a white door, ushering them into a room bathed in natural light. Whimsical red and white flowers were painted across the walls, lending the space a warmth that masked its clinical purpose. The bed was draped in bleached linens that looked incredibly soft.

    Lasma pulled back the sheets and signaled Raithion to settle Yulin. She adjusted a flat pillow beneath the boy’s head with practiced tenderness, then sat on the edge of the bed. Taking Yulin’s left wrist, she went silent, her index finger pressed to his pulse point as she timed his heartbeats. After a tense minute, she looked up at Dain.

    “You’ve worked tirelessly,” she noted, her voice softening. “His pulse is stable, but he is teetering on the edge of a total system failure. Are you certain it was Silver Malice?”

    “I am,” Raithion answered for him, gesturing to the sealed leather bag Dain carried. The bag held the teapot Rasa had used and its contents, along with the two cups Naeri and Yulin had used.

    Lasma rose and led them to a large workstation against the far wall. It was a table equipped with various medical instruments.

    Raithion’s eyes widened at the sight of a porcelain sink fitted with a polished brass tap. When Lasma turned the handle, clear, pressurized water flowed freely. It was a level of advanced plumbing rare even in the Lyrian capital.

    Lasma washed her hands, pulled a pair of white cloth gloves from a shelf, and set a silver tray on the table. Taking the bag from Dain, she retrieved the teapot and emptied its contents on the tray with clinical precision. Then, she studied the dregs of the teapot and the stained leaves within. Her examination was silent and agonizingly thorough. Finally, she let out a long, heavy sigh.

    “It is indeed Silver Malice,” she confirmed, glancing back at Yulin. Raithion had already returned to his son’s side, clutching the boy’s small, clammy hand. “It’s a miracle he’s still breathing. How much did he take?”

    Dain produced a small ceramic cup from the bag. “His mother filled this, but he only took a single sip before he collapsed.”

    “He’s lucky,” Lasma said grimly. “A second swallow would have been fatal. The concentration in this tea was intended to kill instantly. Now, tell me exactly what you’ve administered.”

    “I’ve kept him on a strict regimen of activated charcoal for the last three days during our voyage from Lyria,” Dain explained. “The two weeks before that, I also used aloe and ginger for the gastric pain, and brewed turmeric and cotton plant to stave off the nerve-related tremors. I’ve been soothing the transitions with goat’s milk.”

    Lasma nodded approvingly. “You focused on the datura base of the poison.”

    “It was the only component I could identify before we understood the full scope of the toxin,” Dain admitted.

    “You did well,” Lasma said. She filled the cup with a sample of the poisoned tea, then emptied the rest of the pot into the sink and rinsed the tray with soap and water. “This teapot is contaminated beyond repair. I’ll have it incinerated. Anything brewed in it from now on would be lethal.”

    “I trust your judgment,” Dain said, his eyes fixed on the lone cup of tea she had set aside.

    “I’ll go fetch the antidote,” Lasma said, stripping off her gloves and tossing them into a laundry basket. She washed her hands, then crossed the room for one final check of Yulin’s pupils and temperature. “We don’t have much time left, but we have enough. Stay here. Rest.”

    “Don’t you need the tea for the cure?” Dain asked as he moved toward Raithion.

    Lasma offered a small, knowing smile. “We do. Watch over it until I return.”

    As the door clicked shut behind her, Raithion felt a wave of profound gratitude wash over him, so thick it nearly choked him. He didn’t care why the Sura had a cure ready for such a deadly poison or how they had become so much more advanced than his own kingdom. He could not bring himself to ask too many questions. All that mattered was that Lasma had spoken with the certainty of a woman who could snatch his son back from the grave. He wiped a hand over his tired face, watching Yulin’s fluttering eyelids.

    “Prince Azula,” Dain said quietly, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. “He seems to harbor quite a bit of hatred for you. Why did he call you the ‘Master of the Blades of Ashes’?”

    Raithion closed his eyes, the memory of Azula’s face years ago, bright and hopeful, flashing through his mind. “Because I broke a promise to him. I was meant to protect what he held dear. Instead, I let it burn.”

    “Must have been a hell of a promise,” Dain sighed. “The Sura have clearly flourished without us. That crossbow he was carrying? I’ve never seen a mechanism like that. Our engineers are decades behind.”

    “He was always innovative,” Raithion whispered.

    “So, how do you plan on befriending a man who wants to put a bolt through your head?” Dain asked. “They’ve got us bottled up in a healer’s center so close to shore. They could toss us back into the sea in five minutes.”

    Raithion let out a short, dry chuckle. “Azula was always petty when he felt slighted. He once told me off at an inn for pushing him too far. I’m not taking his anger lightly, especially considering what Lyria did to his people. We’ll take it moment by moment. First, we save Yulin. The rest…the rest I’ll spend the rest of my life fighting for.”

    “If you say so,” Dain said, pushing off the wall. He headed back to the sink and started fiddling with the brass tap. “Do you think they’d let me see the drainage schematics for this place? I’ve been trying to overhaul the palace morgue, and the budget just got approved.”

    Raithion shot him a look of pure annoyance. “Could you please not discuss your morgue budget while my son is fighting for his life?”

    “It’s not my fault you brought a coroner to do a healer’s job,” Dain shot back with a smirk. “Besides, Lady Lasma liked my work. I can claim credit for keeping Yulin alive. That gives me leverage to ask you for more gold denaris for my morgue budget.”

    “Shut up, Dain,” Raithion grumbled, though the familiar bickering took some of the sting out of the room’s tension.

    “But, Lord Raithion, the ventilation alone…”

    ****

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  • Blades of Ashes – Ch 12-1

    Raithion dressed in formal clothing for his official visit to the palace. It was a day after the funeral, and the city was awash with gossip of Naeri’s death. The scribes had published the story of Naeri’s death at the hands of her most trusted lady-in-waiting. Gesi Ajai was busy trying to control the narrative, but there was no way to hide the truth. Raithion had insisted that the coroner share the details of the poison used on his wife and child in case an antidote could be found sooner.

    “Ajai will try to divert the attention to his family,” Kailu guessed, watching Raithion don a heavy black long coat.

    Raithion moved to the mirror at the vanity table as he buttoned the coat. His shirt and trousers were black, and the formal long coat was also black, though the wrists were embellished with gold lines to mark his station as the Commandery Prince. He fastened the gold buttons and sat down at the vanity. Sharian tied his hair with a gold clip and trimmed the beard Raithion had refused to shave.

    “The attention will not end easily,” Raithion said. “Push the printers to publish morning and evening. I want everyone in Genad City to know about Silver Malice. If possible, push the news beyond the capital to the various states.”

    “I have someone working on it,” Kailu said.

    Raithion nodded, pulled on his fine leather boots to match his formal attire, and shifted to look at Kailu.

    “Don’t you think it’s time to take on your true station?” Raithion asked. He had known Kailu a long time. When they were younger, and Raithion was free of the constraints of marriage, he was happy to keep Kailu’s secrets and let him play to his fullest among the Maenaer Legion officers.

    Now, his life was rubble filled with a dead wife, a poisoned son, and an infant daughter. He could not focus on anything else but bringing his life under control. Shaking his head, he gave Kailu a wan smile.

    “Things are at this point,” Raithion said, pointing to his black clothes. “I’m about to enter the palace and seek time away from the capital. My father will take over the Commandery Office in the palace. However, he is a true general—ambitious, but not as perceptive with the common people as he should be. He has a tendency to lean into the political ideas that interest him. Kailu, your cousin, is also ambitious, and now that he has gained full control of the city’s defenses, thanks to you and me, he will want to fight Gesi Ajai and the Prime Minister for more political control. So, I can only ask you to protect my sisters and mother while I’m away. What do you say?”

    “Raith,” Kailu started, only to sigh. “You’re quite smart, reaching out to me when I can’t refuse you.”

    “Your mother has done a great job protecting Little Bird in the palace. She’ll be happy to see you returning to your true self. I’m relying on you, Prince Kailu Adertha.”

    Kailu smiled at the mention of Princess Sanan. The princess married her trusted guard when she turned twenty-one and gave birth to a son. Her mother and Basileus Rokas all insisted on her remaining in the Adertha Palace and named Kailu a prince.

    Prince Kailu had run out of the palace when he was sixteen and joined the army, where he met Raithion. They had looked after each other since.

    “What do you plan to do when you get to Sura Island?” Kailu asked.

    Raithion’s gaze shifted to the blades Azula gifted him five years ago. They were resting on a stand. The handle that clipped the two blades together had started to malfunction. He had taken to keeping the blades separate. He missed the weighted feel of the double blades when they snapped together.

    “I don’t have a plan,” Raithion said with a sigh, thinking of Azula’s angry expression when he last stood face-to-face with him. “Azula was very angry when we last met. It was understandable, as his clan was decimated in the Sura cleanse. There’s nothing I can say that could dissolve his anger. So, I will just show up.”

    “I suppose that is a plan,” Kailu said. “I hope Haedor protects you well in the face of Azula’s anger.”

    “Me too,” Raithion said with a weary smile as he got up. He gave the broken blades one last glance before he started heading out. “Let’s go, Your Highness. We have a lot of work to do today.”

    Kailu let out another sigh, then followed him out of the bedroom.

    ****

    Raithion met Dio in his office. Dio stood when Raithion walked in and came around his desk to give him a short hug.

    “The funeral went smoothly,” Dio said. “You handled the ceremony quite well. It must have been difficult, but you were very strong. I could only support you from behind. Do you need anything now?”

    “Yes,” Raithion said with a nod. Dio pushed him to sit in a chair before the desk and then leaned against his desk. “I need permission to leave the capital. I have an opportunity to find a cure for Yulin. I have to take it. It means I have to travel out of Genad City. I don’t know how long it will take me, so my absence will be indefinite.”

    Dio closed his eyes and folded his arms against his chest. Raithion sat still in his chair and watched Dio until the Basileus took a deep breath and pushed off the desk. He moved around the desk to the main seat and sat down with a sigh.

    “You want to leave us alone in the capital,” Dio started.

    “You won’t be alone,” Raithion said. “My father is here, and so is Kailu.”

    “Kailu—” Dio said, but Raithion interrupted him right away.

    “He is your cousin, My Lord. He will return home and take on his title,” Raithion said. “He knows all my duties and will protect you and Little Bird. I trust him with your lives.”

    “I don’t doubt that you do, but it’s not the same when you’re not in the capital,” Dio said, shaking his head. “We’re in a good place, military-wise. But now we’re about to take on the political wall the Libert and Populi have in my court. We can’t do it without you.”

    “My son is dying,” Raithion said, his tone cold. “Gesi Ajai had someone poison him in my house. I can’t watch him die without finding a solution. I need to leave the capital.”

    “Prince Raithion,” Dio started, but Raithion slammed his palm on the desk, letting his anger color his voice.

    “You owe me,” Raithion said, his teeth gritted. “Don’t think I don’t know how I ended up married to Naeri Ajai. I allowed your plans because it is what you were owed. It is what your father was owed. I lived through everything Naeri put me through, including her devious plots to rob me of my free will so she could conceive two children. Two children I did not know how to love until she died in my great room and left them with only me as a parent. So, you need to release me from the burden of this palace. I need to go fight for Yulin and Skye now, so that I can find some peace after five years of this hell.”

    Dio stared at him in silence. They sat staring at each other for five minutes before Dio nodded.

    “Do you know that is the first time you have ever dared to tell me what you’re thinking?” Dio said with a sigh. “You’ve always kept to discussions about your duty as the Commandery Prince and your protection of Soriel. Never once have you dared to speak your mind. I’m very happy, Raith.”

    Raithion stared at him, then turned away to look out the window. His jaw clenched for a minute before he stared at his hands in his lap.

    “Forgive me,” Raithion started.

    “No, you don’t get to take back that tirade,” Dio said with a small smile. “Will you tell me where you’re going? Are you sure the imperial healers cannot come up with the cure?”

    “Dain.”

    “The coroner?” Dio asked.

    “Don’t judge him for his work; he is very good at discovering what ails people,” Raithion said. “He says the antidote for Silver Malice needs an expert. Someone who will know the precise dosage to give to Yulin. The only known expert is on Sura Island.”

    Dio sucked in air at the mention of the Sura.

    “Are you sure they will help?” Dio asked.

    “I don’t have a choice but to seek them out,” Raithion said. “I’ll have to deliver myself to the Sura Clan and see if they will help.”

    Dio sat in silence for a moment, then reached for a fresh sheet of paper from a holder on his desk. He picked up his fountain pen and started writing. When he finished, he picked up his official seal and stamped the letter with red ink before he handed it to Raithion.

    “I cannot undo what happened to them during the forged silver case,” Dio said. “But I can promise justice and the right to reopen the case to find the truth. You already have the Doriel Manor under your control. You have the right to give it to them as you will. This is the most I can do for you now. This is a warrant of retrial. You can hand it to the new Sura Chief on behalf of my court.”

    Raithion took the edict and read it. Dio had stated simply that he would grant the Sura Clan the mandate to seek a fresh retrial of their case and the right to seek fresh evidence to clear the clan’s name in court.

    “Thank you,” Raithion said with a small smile, knowing Azula would be happy to see the warrant, if not him.

    Dio got up and found an envelope from his drawers. He walked around the table and took the paper from him, folding it neatly before sealing it in an envelope and stamping the closed edge with his ring.

    “I am grateful to you, Raith,” Dio said, meeting Raithion’s gaze. “I have noted everything you have done for my family and me since you joined this palace. Every step you have taken to protect Soriel and me, I have written it in my heart. I promise not to interfere with your family matters anymore. If you do ever meet someone you’re willing to make a partner, I will stand for you and your lover for the rest of my days. That is my promise. Go, leave the palace to your father, Soriel, and me.”

    “And Kailu,” Raithion reminded him. “Let him help; otherwise, he will run back to my Maenaer residence for sanctuary and never return. Princess Sanan won’t forgive you.”

    Dio scoffed and shook his head. “Fine, and Prince Kailu.”

    “Good.” Raithion got up. “Then I’ll leave without worry.”

    “Good luck with the Sura,” Dio said as Raithion took the sealed envelope and headed to the door.

    “Yeah,” Raithion said, sure he would need a miracle to get Azula to look at him.

    That day, two things surprised the courtiers in the imperial court. One was that the Draeya Prince was leaving the capital to handle matters in Draeya County in the Naga State. Most people understood his need to return to his home county after all the tragedy in his home. The commoners wished him well and hoped that his son would find a cure soon. It was sad to imagine him planning a second funeral so soon.

    The second news was the arrival of Duke Maenaer at the court as he took over the Draeya Prince’s Commandery Office. He would be supported by Princess Sanan’s elusive son, Prince Kailu Adertha—Prince Kailu, who had not been seen for ages. The court was in an uproar over the news.

    That evening, Noriel, Soriel, Silveren, and Thanir all gathered at the gates as they watched Raithion’s private legion guard pack up and secure the carriages carrying Skye and Yulin with their nanny. Raithion’s butler, Daron, ensured they had everything, and all that was left was a quiet goodbye.

    “Take care of yourself,” Silveren said as she held on to Raithion’s right hand. “Don’t forget to eat on time. Don’t think about home too much. We can manage. You focus on finding a cure for Yulin.”

    “I will,” Raithion said, pulling her into a tight hug. She kissed his cheeks and stepped back to let Soriel and Noriel hug him. He held his sisters tight and promised to return with good news.

    Then he was standing before Thanir.

    “The Sura have a lot to gain from an agreement with the Lyria Kingdom,” Thanir said, holding his right hand tight. “There have been rumors that they have grown their island and changed their power structure. The Nerasa Kingdom is sniffing around them and may attempt a soft annexation. However, Sura Island is still part of Lyria; any annexation by the Nerasa Kingdom would trigger a war. It is not something the Sura would want. Lean on that when you meet the new Sura Chieftain.”

    “I’ll remember,” Raithion nodded, thinking of Alise, Azula’s sister. She was the next chieftain. He hoped she would be easy to talk to; at the very least, she might be willing to negotiate.

    “Yulin will be cured,” Thanir said with confidence.

    It was a confidence that filled Raithion up inside, and he nodded before he hugged his father tight, then turned to mount his horse, followed closely by Haedor, who was leading the convoy of three carriages heading to Draeya County.

    Raithion gave his family one last glance before he turned his horse and left the capital, his heart pounding with the anticipation of seeing Azula Doriel again.

    ****

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  • Blades of Ashes Ch 11-1

    Soriel entered Basileus Dio’s office in the afternoon with a joyous wave for his staff.

    Dio stopped reading the reports from the military office and gave her his full attention. His wife looked radiant in a pink dress that whispered and shimmered with every step. Her long black hair fell down her back, pinned with butterfly clips that caught the light when she moved. She approached his desk with a smile meant only for him.

    He pushed his chair back, and pleasure spread through him when she perched on his lap and wrapped an arm around his shoulders as she settled. The scent of roses filled his senses. He buried his nose into her shoulder and closed his eyes, savoring her warmth.

    No wonder his mother said Soriel had bewitched him. He could not argue with the truth of it.

    His heartbeat belonged to Soriel Maenaer. Her love was uncomplicated, fearless, and sure, an anchoring certainty in a world of shifting alliances. She had given him a son in the five years they had been married, but she had also given him something rarer: a partnership that did not bend. If he was bewitched, then he hoped to stay lost.

    “My love,” Soriel said softly, stroking her fingers through his hair. “I want to go home tomorrow. There is news that my brother has returned from the border, and I want to see him at his house.”

    “Your brother is back. He can come visit us in the palace,” Dio said, wrapping his arms around Soriel and holding her close, as though his body could make her change her mind. “I haven’t seen him in months.”

    “I’m sure he’ll come to report to you,” Soriel said. “But I want to talk to him about his wife, Naeri. They have become too estranged. Mom says they are not doing well. It will hurt the children if they don’t find a solution. A while back, I thought I should bring Yulin to the palace so he could play with our son, but we have problems of our own with Mother-in-law.”

    Soriel let out a sigh and rested her weight against him. Dio felt her worry, her responsibility, the way she carried family as though it were both shield and crown.

    “Well.” Dio raised his head from her shoulder and leaned back to meet Soriel’s troubled gaze when she sat up. “What do you think they should do?”

    “I don’t know,” Soriel said, shaking her head. “Naeri is not an easy sister-in-law. She won’t talk to Noriel or me. She only leans on our mother when she thinks it will force Raithion to do something. I’m at a loss, Dio. Mom thinks she should send Raithion’s children to our ancestral home in Draeya. I think it’s a good idea, but it is cruel to separate children from their mother. What do you think?”

    Dio wished he had an easy solution for Soriel. He felt responsible for Raithion’s current predicament. He had heard the stories of Noriel’s attempts to secure her position in Raithion’s home: using potent aphrodisiac drugs to push Raithion into compliance so she could give birth to a Maenaer heir. Raithion’s reaction to his wife’s actions was extreme. He escaped the city in favor of border inspections, vanishing into duty.

    It made Dio wonder if he had broken something in Raithion’s life when he chose what the kingdom demanded over what a man might have wanted.

    “Soriel,” Dio said quietly, taking her right hand and turning it in his own as he played with the red jade ring on her index finger.

    He had given her the ring during their wedding, making her his wife and the Basilinna of the Kingdom of Lyria. The smile on her face that day still lived in him, bright as a vow, sharp as a promise. Raithion’s toast for his sister’s happiness also lingered in his thoughts, refusing to fade.

    What had Raithion said?

    Soriel, may you always be happy with your chosen love…”

    Chosen love, Dio thought with a frown, the words turning in his mind like a blade.

    “Do you think your brother had someone he loved before his engagement to Lady Naeri?” Dio asked, meeting Soriel’s worried gaze.

    She studied him for a minute, then her gaze drifted to their clasped hands.

    “I once thought so,” Soriel said, her voice low, as though afraid the people beyond Dio’s office door would hear. “Especially when he came back after the Sura purge, but there are no clues.”

    “No clues don’t mean one doesn’t exist,” Dio said with a sigh. “I’ve wronged your big brother for the sake of our family.”

    “Does this mean you’ll let me see him?” Soriel asked. “Yulin and Skye need help. I’m their auntie. There’s nothing to do but find a way for them to grow up happy.”

    “I know,” Dio said. “You can visit him. But he should also come to see his Basileus when he manages his affairs at home. Tell him I want to see him.”

    Soriel kissed his cheek, and Dio smiled, softened in a way he allowed only her to witness. “I’ll tell him. I’ll take Rane with me so he can play with his grandmother and cousin. It will be good for Yulin. You make sure to eat on time. If you can’t stand being at a table with Mother-in-law, go visit Auntie Sanan and Dowager Grandmother. She is always eager to feed you.”

    “I feel like you’re planning to leave me for many days,” Dio complained, tightening his arms around Soriel. The words were petulant, but the truth beneath them was not. “Won’t you miss me in your bed? How about I sneak into the Maenaer manor…” His voice trailed off as he leaned in to kiss her cheeks, angling for her lips.

    “Dio,” Soriel said. “Behave yourself. We are in your office. Your attendants could walk in at any minute. And I’d like to see you sneak into a house with my brother and father there.”

    “I’m not worried. I married you fair and square,” Dio complained, and finally he kissed her lips, smiling against her mouth as he swallowed Soriel’s soft chuckle. Her laughter always felt like victory, sweet, private, and entirely his.

    A knock on the door interrupted their kiss, and Dio sighed when Soriel hid her face in his shoulder as though it might hide her blush.

    “Yes,” Dio said, lifting his gaze. He was surprised to find Theod Dorn, head of the palace guard, standing at his door with a panicked expression. “What is it, Theod?”

    “There’s been a development at the Maenaer Manor,” Theod said, making Soriel sit up to look at him despite her blush-stained cheeks.

    “What development?” Soriel asked.

    “Um.” Theod hesitated, then entered the office and held out a note to Dio.

    Soriel grabbed it first and unrolled it. It took her a moment before she jumped off Dio’s lap in alarm and handed the note to Dio.

    Dio read the note aloud. “Commandery Princess poisoned. Draeya Prince has locked down the manor.”

    “I have to go home,” Soriel said, already turning to leave.

    “Wait. I’ll go with you,” Dio said, dropping the note on his desk as he started after her.

    “No.” Soriel stopped him with a gentle hand on his chest when he reached her. She looked at Theod, then let out a controlled breath. “This is not as simple as it sounds. My brother has returned home, and now his wife is poisoned. We have been dealing with Lord Gesi Ajai’s machinations in the court for the last six months as he finds a way to weaken our bond and the traction we’ve built in the court. Raithion’s wife is Gesi Ajai’s daughter. This is not so simple.”

    “The Basilinna is right,” Theod said, giving Dio a firm nod.

    “You stay,” Soriel said. “Look after our son. Let him stay with Princess Sanan and Dowager Grandmother if you need to go to court. I’ll manage my brother’s house.”

    “What if it’s dangerous?” Dio asked, pulling Soriel into his arms.

    “I have guards to protect me,” Soriel said, her voice steady. She did not flinch from danger. “Don’t worry.”

    She leaned up and kissed him on his lips, a sweet kiss that had Theod turning away at once, offering them the dignity of privacy.

    “Gesi Ajai has been unable to hurt us,” Soriel said, the certainty in her tone making Dio’s chest tighten with pride and unease in equal measure. “So, he’s gone after my brother. I’ll go help Raith however I can. After all, thanks to him, we’ve become a bit stronger.”

    “You’re right,” Dio said, hugging Soriel tight for a moment, as though he could lend her his strength through skin and breath. “All right. Call me if you need help. Keep me updated.”

    “I will,” Soriel said and rushed out of Dio’s office.

    Theod watched her leave with admiration, then turned to Dio.

    “Draeya Prince and Gesi Ajai are about to lock horns,” Theod said. “Are you satisfied?”

    “I’m apprehensive,” Dio said, moving to look out the windows at the bright garden. He caught sight of Soriel running along a path toward Rose Hall so she could change for her trip out of the palace. Even hurried, she moved with purpose, like a woman born to command.

    “My wife is very attached to her family. I’ve tried to win her brother’s confidence, but Raithion has been closed off for five years. He marches to orders without question, and my tenure as Basileus has gained strength thanks to his efforts,” Dio said with a sigh. “Raithion’s determination to clean out military ranks within the capital city, Genad, and at the border has left Gesi Ajai without a route to manipulate cases in court, the economy he almost ruined, and even my palace staff.”

    “Draeya Prince has held up the front against Gesi Ajai,” Theod said. “It has left his family life open to Gesi Ajai.”

    “We are now in a critical moment,” Dio said. “I can only hope Raithion makes it to the other side, and whatever Gesi Ajai does will not rob him of more.” His voice lowered. “I have sinned, Theod. Do you think Raithion will ever forgive me?”

    “That’s up to fate,” Theod said.

    Dio nodded once.

    “Tell the silent guard to support Draeya Prince and the Basilinna however they can,” Dio said. “I want this resolved as fast as possible.”

    “I’ll tell them,” Theod said.

    ****

    Soriel rode her horse hard, followed by Meira and Vanya and the formal guard from the palace as they headed for her parents’ manor. She was dressed in black, a dark veil with gold embroidery covering her hair and part of her face to keep interested eyes from lingering too long. Nervous energy coursed through her veins as she thought about her brother and his estranged wife, Naeri. What bad fate had Raith triggered to have so many problems at home?

    She turned onto the affluent street that led to their manor and slowed when a ruckus met them like a wall. A woman was wailing loudly, calling out to the gathering crowd with the practiced desperation of someone who knew exactly where shame landed hardest.

    “They have poisoned my daughter to death and won’t let me enter to see her. Look what they have done. She was fine this morning. We had a lovely meal together, and now they say she is poisoned. What kind of in-laws are these? They won’t let me see my daughter.” Her voice broke, then sharpened again. “What about my grandchildren? How can I be sure they are fine in a place where their mother was poisoned?”

    The wailing woman stared at the closed gates as if grief alone should force them open. She cried louder, dragging the crowd into her pain until the murmurs turned into demands. Voices rose. Insults snapped against the closed wooden gates like thrown stones.

    Vanya got off her horse, handed the reins to one of her sisters, and hurried ahead, melting into the crowd. Soriel dismounted, followed by Meira. The team of ten guards did the same and waited by a low wall until Vanya returned.

    Vanya came back minutes later, shaking her head.

    “It is Lady Benira,” Vanya said. “The Commandery Princess’s mother. She has been here for an hour. The manor doors were already locked when they arrived. Draeya Prince’s guard won’t open without an order from him. She is making a ruckus to force the doors open.”

    “So petty,” Soriel said, though her eyes hardened as she watched the crowd swell with borrowed outrage. Raithion likely had his hands full with his wife inside the manor. The locked doors would be a security measure. Soriel’s mouth tightened. “Has my sister arrived?”

    “Yes. Lady Draug is already inside,” Vanya said with a wince. “She is part of the reason Lady Benira is causing a fuss. Apparently, the guards allowed Lady Draug in without much issue, but they won’t let Lady Benira inside. She thinks it is because Lady Draug is a Maenaer and she is not.”

    “Grinding gossip to make our family look bad,” Soriel said, adjusting her gloves with deliberate care. She looked to Meira. “Let’s go deal with this one. Vanya, I’ll leave you to manage the crowd. Clear this place after we enter and send anyone who wants to make a scene to the side entrance.”

    “Yes, my lady,” Vanya said.

    Soriel steadied herself and stepped into the clamoring crowd that was now shouting insults at her family’s main gates. Meira flanked Soriel, watchful and ready, while Vanya and her team guarded the rear.

    “How dare a noble family keep a mother away from her child when she is in trouble?” someone called out. “Worse than dogs.”

    “Duchess Maenaer,” Benira called out, her voice dripping with tears. “Let me see my daughter. How can you keep me away from her like this? Is it because we come from a lowly family? I will kneel down to beg you to open the door. Do you dare see me beg?”

    “And why can’t she dare to see you beg?” Soriel asked, her voice cold as she stepped out to face Benira Ajai. “What do you think she is guilty of, that she doesn’t dare to face you?”

    Benira turned eyes red and gleaming, and snapped as though Soriel were only another obstacle.

    “And who are you to meddle where you know nothing?” Benira asked.

    Her gaze flicked over Soriel’s veil and black attire with contempt.

    “Lady Noriel walked into the manor not thirty minutes ago, and no one dared stop her. What of me? Where is their recognition of my place as the Commandery Princess’s mother? Are they looking down on me? Don’t I have a right to demand attention from my son-in-law?” Her voice rose, aimed at the crowd as much as Soriel. “Who are you to question me?”

    Soriel narrowed her gaze as she took in the crowd of attendants clustered behind Benira, five visible at Benira’s shoulders, and more pressing at the edges of the crowd. Then, with a soft scoff, Soriel pushed the veil back to reveal her face.

    The shift was immediate.

    Benira’s breath caught. Her expression faltered as recognition struck. She gasped.

    “I am the youngest daughter in the Maenaer clan,” Soriel said, her smile small and controlled. “Am I not allowed to question you when you slander my mother in front of such a large crowd?”

    “Your Majesty,” Benira said at once, pressing her right hand to her chest and bowing her head.

    The crowd quieted as if a hand had closed around their throats. Then, as if waking, they followed Benira’s lead: bows, murmurs, whispers threaded with excitement.

    “Your Majesty,” they repeated, the words spreading through them like sudden fear.

    Benira glanced up with apprehension, even as she pressed a handkerchief to her eye as though to wipe away tears. The performance did not stop, but it changed.

    Soriel smirked and climbed two steps so she could face the onlookers Benira had gathered at the Maenaer front gate.

    “My brother’s wife has been poisoned,” Soriel said, her voice carrying the weight of authority. “I, too, have received a message and have come to see how I can help. We do not know how or why this happened, but I can imagine the Draeya Prince has locked the manor doors to capture the culprit.” Her gaze swept the crowd, steady, unafraid of their earlier insults. “Anyone would move quickly to discover who has harmed a member of their family. I beg you not to speculate until more information is provided.”

    “What about Lady Benira?” someone called out. “Why not let her in?”

    “Look. She came to call on my mother’s house with over ten attendants. If I were investigating a crime, I would want to clear those inside first before I had to clear the ten attendants coming along with others,” Soriel said, and she did not soften her voice. She let the truth stand like stone. Her eyes slid to Benira and the attendants hovering behind her. “Surely one or two will be fine. It is not like the Draeya Prince can’t afford attendants in his house. We all want the culprit caught.” Soriel’s gaze sharpened, pinning Benira where she stood. “Or isn’t that what you want, Lady Benira?”

    “I-I—” Benira began, then stopped, caught between the crowd and the Basilinna, her mouth suddenly unable to keep pace with her scheme.

    “Her Majesty speaks sense,” someone in the crowd said. “Surely you’d want the investigator to catch the culprit in time. Adding more people will delay the work.”

    “That’s true.”

    “But why did Lady Draug enter?”

    “She brought one attendant,” someone else answered, “a girl who is from the Maenaer home to begin with. They know them.”

    “Mm, that makes sense. Even Her Majesty has only brought one attendant with her. What’s with Lady Benira’s horde of attendants?”

    Soriel raised her hand slightly, and the crowd’s noise dipped, as if they were conditioned to obey without realizing it.

    “Okay,” Soriel said. “I’ll vouch for Lady Benira to enter the manor with me, but I can only take one attendant of hers inside. We need to cooperate with my brother’s efforts to catch the culprit.” She looked directly at Benira, leaving no room for argument. “Isn’t that right, Lady Benira?”

    “Yes,” Benira said, her voice suddenly small.

    “Let’s all wait for news,” Soriel told the crowd. “I’ll make sure the truth is laid out to everyone in a clean manner. I, too, want to know who would dare harm our family members.”

    Soriel turned to the guard standing at the Maenaer front gates and produced her entry token. The guard nodded and knocked on the gate.

    Soriel was not surprised to see Kailu and Haedor waiting for them as the gates opened.

    “Your Majesty, we were just about to open for Lady Benira when she started the ruckus,” Kailu said.

    “Don’t worry about it,” Soriel said, keenly aware of Lady Benira hurrying behind her with one attendant while the others were held back by Vanya and her team. Soriel’s voice stayed level, but her pace did not slow. “How is my brother’s family?”

    The gates closed behind them, sealing out the noise, and Kailu let out a soft sigh.

    “I’m sorry, Your Majesty,” Kailu said. “It is bad news. Her Highness has been poisoned to death. Prince Yulin is poisoned, too. The healers are inside working to save him. Lady Silveren has started preparing the Commandery Princess’s funeral.”

    Benira let out a grief-stricken scream, sharp enough to scrape the air. Her attendant held her tight as she swayed, suddenly a mother again instead of a woman wielding scandal as a weapon.

    Soriel winced at the tragedy and closed her eyes for a heartbeat, one breath to feel it, one breath to set it aside, because a Basilinna could mourn later.

    “Haedor,” Soriel said, opening her eyes, calm and commanding, “lead Lady Benira into the house to see my mother.”

    Haedor nodded to Benira’s attendant, who led the grieving woman to follow him into the main house.

    Soriel’s gaze shifted to Kailu, then to the house, to the unseen corridors where her brother waited. “Where is my brother?”

    “He is with Prince Yulin,” Haedor said. “He has asked Kailu and me to find the culprit. Lady Silveren is busy with the funeral arrangements, while Noriel is assisting her. We need someone to report to as we find clues.”

    “I’ll take over,” Soriel said, and the words landed like a decree. She glanced at Meira. “Send a message to Lord Ajai and to my husband about the Commandery Princess’s fate.”

    Meira nodded and hurried away to find the manor’s aviary to send a message.

    Soriel turned to Kailu. “I’ll see my brother first, then you can report your findings to me.” Her eyes hardened with purpose. “We need to close this case before the funeral if my brother is to have peace from his in-laws. Let’s get it done.”

    “Yes, Your Majesty,” Kailu said, leading her to Raithion’s house.

    <<Previous | Blades of Ashes ToC | Next>>

  • Blades of Ashes – Ch 9

    Ch 9

    On Sura Island, at the foot of Mount Sura, Azula sat in his boat in the middle of the lake, staring at the letter delivered by Vandra, Teba Inn’s owner in the port city. He was the only one willing to show them kindness, and he sent them messages by pigeon. Magnus claimed that Vandra owed him a favor for saving his daughter from a bandit, so their ties could not be easily severed. Still, they had to be careful not to place Vandra’s livelihood in danger, so they would not rely on him too heavily.

    Azula stared at three letters in total, Vandra’s that had arrived in the morning, one he had been hauling around like a dark talisman, and a third from his mother.

    Azula wished he could ignore them all, wary of the sense of crisis and anger filling his heart. Life on Sura Island was full of growing pains. They were building homes for newcomers and finding ways to restock the dwindling grain in their communal warehouses. There were school-age children who needed a place to study, craftsmen out of work who needed a new way to earn an income, and the sick who needed skilled healers. Azula was overwhelmed.

    He reached for the first letter and frowned as he read. The letter was the magistrate’s order, signed and stamped to make it official, an order asking the Draeya general to find the thieves plaguing the Sura and bring them to justice. Azula scoffed every time he reread it. What a performance the general had staged.

    He stabbed the letter in the middle with a dagger, holding it in place on the wooden bench of his boat. He would keep it until he met that master of ashes again for answers.

    Azula reached for Vandra’s letter. It was a listed account of events that had happened since the Sura Clan had been expelled from the capital.

    The first news was that all Sura Workshops in Genad City were seized by the finance ministry. Their tools and products were confiscated by the imperial court. Azula scoffed at the greed of the imperial court officials. Their livelihood had been taken over as if it were a common product.

    The next item on the list was the fate of any Sura Clan members who were discovered still in the city. Azula bit his bottom lip when he read the list of nearly twenty of their people who were murdered by rogue mercenaries on their way to the port. There was no mercy in the Kingdom of Lyria.

    Wiping away tears, Azula read on.

    The minister named Gesi Ajai had landed a windfall by becoming the new minister of finance and leaving his ministry of agriculture to a subordinate. Azula frowned; somehow, that felt important, but he could not fit it into his clan’s misfortune. His attention was pulled instead to a note on marriages.

    The first was that the Draeya general’s little sister had been named the new Basilinna, which elevated her family’s status. Marquis Draeya was now a duke, while his son had become a commandery prince.

    Raithion was now a glorified general who could command all His Majesty’s armies. Along with the new station, the Draeya prince had married Gesi Ajai’s daughter, making her a commandery princess.

    Azula sneered. Gifts and rewards all around after betraying his people. Vandra had finished the letter by attaching a notice he had found on the streets. It read, “The Commandery Prince Draeya has seized and sealed the Sura Clan Chief’s Manor. None shall be allowed to enter or own it.”

    Azula felt pain strike deep in his heart. His father’s house in the capital was no longer theirs. He had not even gotten a chance to sift through it. What did the Master of Ashes want with it?

    Crumpling the letter with a force of anger, he dropped it on the bottom of the boat and stepped on it. He then reached for the neatly folded paper his mother had given him the day before. It was a letter from his father. She claimed Marius had written it before he left the manor with the legion officers who captured him.

    Azula had no courage to open it when his mother gave the letter to him. His father’s death felt like a cruel joke. Every morning for the last two weeks, since the funeral and the tattoo on his back, he had opened his eyes and hoped he had escaped the nightmare. Alas, hopes and dreams could only fill his imagination. Reality was far more punishing.

    Breaking the seal Marius had placed on the thick letter with green beeswax, Azula unfolded the letter.

    “Azula, Don’t make that face full of grievance. I’m eternally disappointed that I won’t get to scold you when you arrive in the capital. Don’t be sad, little demon. Whatever you find, know that I’m forever happy to have been your father. I’m very proud of you. Your dad is proud to have called you a son. Take care of my wife for me, let her smile often, and even though Alise is always so strong, be a place she can come to complain and lean on. How short life is. Azula, live a long, fun one and be as wild as you have always been. I love you. Dad.”

    Azula could barely read the “Dad” Marius had signed at the bottom. His eyes filled with tears. The grief he had been fighting for days as he planned a funeral, managed the clan’s needs, and settled their people broke through.

    A harsh sob escaped his lips, followed by a second. A deep, cavernous pain opened in his chest. He sobbed and cried loud and rough, shouting as much as he could as the pain filled him up. In the middle of the lake he so loved, only the fish and creatures in the deepest part could hear his grief. So, he let it rule his soul for a while.

    ****

    Alise sat on a bench outside, taking in the cool fresh air before she had to go back to bed for rest. A thick cloak was wrapped around her. The comfortable seat afforded her a beautiful view of the lake where Azula liked to swim. An hour ago, she had watched her brother push his boat out, saying he needed some time to take in the quiet of the lake. She wanted to enter the house when he was safely back on solid ground, so she watched his boat in the middle of the water.

    She was absentmindedly staring at the figure on the boat when she noticed Azula dive into the lake. She counted minutes, waiting for him to resurface beside the boat, but he never did.

    “No.” Alise stood, dropping the cloak on the ground. “No! Azula!” She started running down the short path to the end of the dock where Azula’s boat was usually tied. “Azula! Azula!”

    She screamed his name, hoping he would resurface, but she could not see him.

    “Azula!” she screamed again, hysterical, tears filling her eyes. What if he had drowned? What would they do? “Azula—”

    “Alise.” Magnus, their uncle, wrapped his arms around her. “What’s wrong?”

    Alise gripped his jacket, pointing to Azula’s empty boat. “He went into the water and hasn’t surfaced. We have to go get him. Let’s go! What if something has happened to him? Uncle, hurry.”

    “It’s okay,” Magnus soothed, pulling her into his arms.

    Alise tried to see Azula’s boat, she turned to see her mother running down to join them, followed by Alvas, Kalas, and Senin.

    “Go get him,” Magnus told Kalas. “Tell him his sister is worried.”

    “They have to get to him fast,” Alise said, pulling away from Magnus. She started to follow Kalas to the large boat that the boatman had brought to the dock. “I’ll go—”

    “No.” Lasma reached for her, while Alvas wrapped her shawl around Alise’s shoulders. “You’re still healing, child. Let Kalas and Senin go. Stay here with us.”

    ****

    Azula treaded water, letting the weight of it heal the worst of his grief and wash away the tears he had shed until his eyes felt swollen. He held his breath a moment longer, enjoying the tunnel of light that shimmered through the surface to light the water, until ripples filled the surface and he saw an oar waving above. He sighed and swam up, wondering if Alvas had arrived again to threaten to empty the lake.

    He was surprised to find an anxious Kalas and Senin leaning over the larger boat.

    Pushing his hair back, he wiped water from his eyes and frowned.

    “What happened?” Azula asked.

    “Alise saw you jump into the lake,” Kalas said. “You didn’t come up in time, so she panicked and started screaming. She is convinced you have drowned. Come on. If we don’t get back to shore soon, she will come out here herself.”

    Azula reached for Kalas’s hand and let him pull him up into the smaller boat.

    “Did she forget I can swim underwater?” Azula asked as he gathered his letters and put them in the pocket of his coat. Kalas tethered the small boat to the big one, and Azula joined him in the larger one, where he started changing into dry clothes.

    Senin helped the boatman row back home at top speed.

    “Your is stressed,” Kalas said. “You’re her only brother. She just lost her father and her husband. She’s a little raw right now. Everyone in the clan is, you know.”

    Azula sighed and pulled on a dry white tunic and his wool trousers. He wore his socks and barely had time to put his boots on when they arrived at the dock.

    “Where is he?” Alise called out, her voice shaking with fear. “Did you find him?”

    Azula, hating the sound of her fear, climbed out of the boat. “Alise. I’m okay. Wh—”

    She did not give him a chance to complete his sentence. She ran into his arms and burst into hard sobs, her body shaking. Azula wrapped his arms around her and stared at his mother and Magnus in shock.

    “I thought you drowned,” Alise said between her sobs. “I can’t lose you too, Azula. You have to be okay. Do you hear me? You’re all we have left. You have to be fine.”

    Azula closed his eyes and buried his face in her hair, holding her gently as he tried his best to soothe her. He let her cry it out. Then, when she was depleted, he carried her into the house, taking her straight to her bed. He left Alise’s side when she fell into a deep sleep at dusk.

    Heading downstairs to the great room, he found Magnus and Lasma talking with the council members. The Sura Clan had suffered too many losses. The council members sitting in their Doriel house were all new, save for Juya, Magnus, and Lasma. All the others had been caught in the massacre as they tried to help people to safety.

    Juya was still running the clan’s communal finances. Magnus and Lasma were managing the community’s social welfare. Kalas was in charge of the mining of ore and the logistics to the warehouses. Alvas oversaw schooling the young ones, while Lasma and Juya managed the older children’s schooling needs.

    Senin had taken on the role of trying to help clan members set up any economic activities they needed, while Azula needed to find a way to sell their goods as the island adjusted to a new world.

    They had gained two people who had been based in the capital.

    Tanya Nuovis, a woman skilled with blades and knives. She could fight off the strongest man. Juya insisted she had protected him when he was on his way from his house to find Alise after Marius’s arrest. Tanya oversaw the training of the first batch of Sura Clan warriors. She was to be helped by the second person Azula did not know, Wolfe Silverberry.

    Wolfe Silverberry was a warrior who had trained in the city’s garrison. He was quite skilled with a sword. He had the build of a warlord and the temperament of a wolf. His anger was hard to manage. His son was the boy who was lynched outside an exchange bureau. His wife had died years before, and his son was his only remaining family. Now he burned with an anger Azula was sure would not end quickly. He could only pray that anger would not consume Wolfe.

    Azula watched the group of people now responsible for the clan for a moment longer before he fully entered the great room. Alvas noticed him first. She stood up and moved to a table where she filled a mug of hot green tea for him.

    Azula accepted the mug with a grateful smile and sat in the closest armchair.

    “How is Alise?” Lasma asked.

    “She’s asleep,” Azula said. “I didn’t know she would get that worried about me going out for a dive.”

    “You jumped into the lake,” Magnus said. “Anyone who doesn’t know about your strange hobbies will think you’ve decided to end it for good. Don’t do that anymore when she’s around.”

    “Mm,” Azula said with a sigh, sipping his green tea. “Juya, how is the grain holding up?”

    “We need a refill of stock in eight weeks,” Juya said. “The only healer we have also says we need to supplement our meals with meat and start finding healing herbs. While we can hunt in the forest, we need to find a way to sustain our consumption. Someone in the farms on the other side of the mountain suggested farming chicken and ducks.”

    “We should get the hatching eggs from the mainland,” Tanya said.

    Azula thought about the letter from Vandra. “I got a letter from the innkeeper today. Anyone from the Sura Clan on the mainland is dead. Mercenaries got to them on their way to the port. We can’t risk an excursion into Lyria Kingdom.”

    The room filled with silence as they thought about the families waiting on news of their missing loved ones.

    “Then,” Magnus said, breaking the silence, “the northeast is our only path now. We should consider how we’re going to approach trading with the Nerasa Kingdom and their Rewa Port.”

    “Yes,” Lasma agreed. “Everyone should write a list of immediate needs. Juya, let us know where we are financially. The Lyria Kingdom denaris may need exchanging for Nerasa gold.”

    “I’ll tally what can be used,” Juya said.

    “Let’s not forget that we’re changing how we manage our administration offices,” Lasma said. “We need more accountants to help Juya, skilled ones to help Tanya and Wolfe, and teachers…there are so many spots to be filled.”

    “Even as we restructure our leadership, our immediate issue is finding a way to sustain our island’s food supply,” Azula said. “Mom, you find a way to convert more of the fertile lands. See if we can farm rice, and vegetables.”

    “I’ll talk to the women,” Lasma said.

    “I have modified a cargo ship,” Azula said, meeting Magnus’s gaze. “I have a tentative plan on how we can approach the Nerasa Kingdom, but it will need some statecraft.”

    “I can’t go with you,” Magnus said, his gaze shifting to Lasma. “While you travel, you’ll need me and Kalas here to manage the day-to-day.”

    “That’s okay,” Azula said with a quick smile. “I want to suggest bringing Juya with me. He’s been in the capital and helped Dad and Alise navigate the politics in Genad.”

    “I can’t,” Juya started to protest, but Azula grinned at him.

    “Don’t you want to discover if there are more amazing precious stones in the world?” Azula teased. “You’ve already appraised the ones Lyria Kingdom could offer. Surely Nerasa has new types you can exploit.”

    “You’re so sly, preying on my habits. I’m half worried about sinking in a ship you’ve modified,” Juya said, shaking his head.

    “Hey, my skill is very good. Even if it sinks it will because we made a navigation mistake,” Azula said. “I need you to be very confident in my skill because that’s what we’re going to build our reputation on in the Nerasa Kingdom.”

    “What do you mean?” Lasma asked, her worried gaze resting on Azula.

    “We will not sell ore to Nerasa. We will sell them finished products and negotiate the sale of blueprints for trade rights,” Azula said.

    “Would that work?” Wolfe asked.

    “It could,” Juya said. “Meaning we won’t need to open workshops in their territory, just sell skilled workshops the know-how. In some cases, we’ll need to approach high-level officials to work in small cities, but in larger ones we can offer to train artisans in well-known workshops. If they agree, the Sura Clan gets money, and we can do with it what we will.”

    “Mm,” Azula said. “See, Juya knows what he’s talking about, even though I’m just guessing at it. Once we have enough money, we bring it back and build what we need here and figure it out as we go.”

    Lasma sighed, while Magnus grinned.

    “Well, I guess the first thing to do is to test your modified cargo ship,” Magnus said. “If it is seaworthy, then we can plan the first trip to the Nerasa Kingdom. Let’s hope Juya can refine this plan of yours.”

    “It will work,” Azula said, confident in his crafting skill. He had no idea about building a nation, but he certainly knew how to make things people wanted to use. The more they wanted to use them, the more money they could make, and with money, Sura Island would survive. “Okay, let’s start planning…”

    ***

    As plans went, it wasn’t the most brilliant, and there were too many variables that affected the result. Some of which included an unforeseen life-changing storm that capsized Azula’s modified cargo ship. Thankfully the ship was close to land, and even though the crew barely survived, they landed on the shores of the Nerasa Kingdom relatively in one piece. There were no losses of life, but they had little to no money to implement Azula’s economic ideas. Azula, Wolfe, Sennin and Juya and a small crew of five men all decided to find work first, then figure out how to send grain supplies to the island by the end of the month.

    The Nerasa Kingdom was bustling, the port vibrant and a melting port of culture. No one wondered about the Sura Clan’s strange hair color because the Nerasa people had more outrageous colors, there were even people with white and green hair. So, the port of Rewa welcomed a shabby crew of Sura Clan members who worked on the docks to gain money for sustenance.

    One night, two weeks after their arrival in Nerasa, Azula was sitting by the beach, mourning the fate of his capsized ship, when he spotted a man drowning in the ocean. Afraid of watching a life being lost, Azula ran to save the drowning man. Once he pulled the heavy, tall man with unusual flaxen hair out of the water, he sat next to him at a loss.

    The man was dressed in a Nerasa army uniform that declared him a general.

    Azula wondered what kind of fate he had, meeting so many generals in a lifetime. He got up, ready to walk away, but the Nerasa general held on to his ankle and looked at him with startling blue eyes.

    Afraid of losses, as previously experienced under the Master of Ashes in the Lyria Kingdom, Azula kicked away the hold of the golden-haired general and ran back to the inn where his people were staying temporarily. He fell asleep, endured dreams of Alise giving birth to a son who turned into a mischievous urchin, then woke up to find their inn filled with Nerasa soldiers. The general had come to find him.

    Thankfully, their lackluster luck changed that day.

    The golden-haired general turned out to be the son of the prime minister. He had fallen into the water from a cliff at his residence. Azula had no interest in asking why the General was walking so close to the edge of a cliff. In any case, the general’s name was Trevan Pearcliff.

    Trevan was staying at the port of Rewa, hoping to find a way to transport sand from a nearby lake to the capital of the Nerasa Kingdom. It looked like a test given to him by his superiors.

    Juya was quick-witted and managed to attract the general’s attention with a blueprint of Azula’s cargo carriage. The golden-haired general commissioned three large cargo carriages from the clan and found them a yard to work in at the port.

    Azula, Wolfe, Senin, and even frail Juya along with their crew of five men worked hard, day and night, conscious of the two-week deadline at home. They managed to make the three cargo carriages and were paid once the sand was filled in the carriages without mishaps.

    Elated with their work, Trevan commissioned five more carriages, which gave them enough money to buy grain and send it with two of their crew to the Sura Island.

    With Juya’s help, Azula negotiated with Trevan and managed to get the golden-haired general to sell them the plot of land where they were working. Trevan helped them acquire a trade permit, helping them establish a small presence in Rewa Port.

    From there, the Sura Clan established a strong sustainable trade with the Nerasa Kingdom. Azula discovered that the currents into Nerasa Kingdom needed experience and know-how. So, he set to understanding the maritime navigation rules of entering Nerasa waters and built two more cargo ships. Once the ships were completed, the island focused on export trade.

    All their products were made and forged on the island and sold from the yard at Rewa Port. The only thing they created on Nerasa soil was the cargo carriage, and Azula took great effort to train the Nerasa metal crafters Trevan brought to him. He showed them how to make the cargo carriage to avoid conflict with the region’s trade rulebooks.

    On the island, the Sura council used the money Azula brought back to build homes, administration buildings, three schools and a healing center. They sent Sura scholars to Nerasa to train as teachers, healers, builders, as Nerasa had a vast sea of knowledge in building buildings. Some of the Sura Clan members made good friends, and soon merchants interested in Sura products brought their ships to the north of the island.

    Magnus and Lasma built a trading port on the north side of the island that traded with ships on the way to other lands and provided a resting stop for travelers. The port was protected by the soldiers Tanya trained, and she was soon referred to as General Tanya by all her recruits. In time, Sura Island established itself as an island nation.

    In the blink of an eye, five years passed, and Azula was already acknowledged by the people in the Nerasa Kingdom and beyond as the prince of the Sura Nation.

    ****

    <<Previous | Blades of Ashes TOC | Next>>

  • A Thousand Years of Hope Ch 25

    Dante lay on the bed where Tani had left him. Kinon stood on the right side of the bed, while Amu stood on the left. Sahdrina stood at the foot of the bed. Together, they held up a barrier to keep the fire magik from leaking from Dante, flooding the room, and spilling into the rest of the house. Cale sat in an armchair by the door, his gaze fixed on Dante.

    “When do you think he’ll wake up?” Cale asked.

    “When nature is done with him,” Kinon said softly. “His fire magik has grown stronger. Unless he wakes up and consciously controls his power, we’re stuck here. Holding this barrier long enough will protect his family, this house, and the vineyard.”

    “Is he that dangerous?” Cale asked.

    “His fire magik is born from an immortal lord’s blood,” Kinon said with a faint chuckle. “It’s burning blue. If you want to test it, step inside this barrier we’re making. Haven’t you noticed it’s taking three ekhos to keep it in check?”

    “Better you than me,” Cale said. “How do you even know how to create this barrier? Have you dealt with this before?”

    He was the only one who didn’t have a barrier of his own in place. His destructive power would only make a worst-case scenario even worse.

    “We’ve all raised young ekhos,” Sahdrina said with a grin. “Amu had Tani, who needed an entire island to hide his affinity with wild animals. His ability to make everything grow was challenging to manage in a mortal world.”

    “I have young ekhos with fire magik working in my vineyards,” Kinon said. “They’ve burned down acres of vines when they lose control.”

    “Tani is something else,” Cale said with a sigh. “He created a fledgling fire ekho, then left us to clean up.”

    “He didn’t leave of his own accord,” Sahdrina said, weaving a thicker barrier by the door as a fresh surge of fire magik rolled off Dante in a heated tide. “The Palladium Gates pulled him back to assess his decision to bond with the fire warlock.”

    “Is there any way to know if Tani is okay?” Amu asked, concern etched in his features.

    “The mortal would have died if the Gates had rejected Lord Tani’s choice,” Sahdrina said. “Since Dante’s fire is causing us so much trouble, forcing us to control his excess power, we can assume Lord Tani is well in the ekho realm.”

    “Just how well depends on the Palladium Gates’ assessment,” Cale guessed.

    “Yes,” Sahdrina said.

    Kinon sighed and studied Dante, who was shifting his hands across the bed as though searching for someone.

    “Heads up,” Kinon warned. “That first moment out of a deep sleep will flood this room with his power. Cale, take Dante’s family out of the house.”

    Cale rose, casting one last glance at Dante’s restless movements, then left the room. He truly hoped Dante would be worth everything Tani had sacrificed for so long. In the living area, he moved over to Nora.

    “Dante is about to wake,” Cale told her. “I need you all to get out of the house.”

    “Why?” Christophe asked. “Why won’t you tell us what’s going on with him?”

    “What’s going on,” Cale said as Nora stood, and he began guiding her to the door—Landi and Christophe trailing closely because he had Nora with him, “is that Tani saved his life and tripled his power. That little maniac really put everything on the line for your son.”

    “Where is Tani?” Nora asked as they headed downstairs toward the front door. They were just stepping out when a suffocating heat blasted down from Dante’s room. Cale scooped Nora up and teleported to the driveway, while Landi and Christophe sprinted after them.

    “What is that?” Christophe demanded when they caught up, turning to look at Artri House. It was now enclosed in a shimmering shield.

    “Your son’s power at work,” Cale said. “We should be grateful the house isn’t on fire. Looks like Dante is awake.”

    ****

    Dante sat upright in his bed, scanning the room for Tani. Panic set in when he realized Tani was nowhere to be found. Instead, Kinon, Amu, and a woman he didn’t recognize stood around his bed.

    “What’s going on?” Dante asked. “Where’s Tani?”

    “Before we answer, can you control your magik?” Kinon asked, gesturing to the shimmering barrier each of them wore for protection against the blue fire aura radiating throughout the house.

    Dante’s eyes widened. He hadn’t lost control like this since childhood, when he’d accidentally burned his mother’s vines. Closing his eyes, he recognized the magnitude of the fire magik coursing through his veins. It felt as though the well of his power had deepened a thousandfold, an endless chasm inside him. Drawing in a steadying breath, he concentrated on the wards he typically used to rein in his power. To his astonishment, the roaring fire responded with surprising ease. In a matter of moments, he forced the explosive force back under control.

    A collective sigh of relief filled the bedroom as he opened his eyes.

    “Very good,” Kinon said, clearly impressed. “I was worried we’d need more time to teach you restraint.”

    “I had tough instructors,” Dante replied, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He tried to stand but moved faster than expected, then frowned as he sank back onto the edge of the mattress. “What happened? Where is Tani? There’s something I need to do…”

    Kinon pulled a chair closer, meeting Dante’s gaze. “Tani did everything to save you,” he said. “The result of his efforts is more complicated than any of us expected.”

    “Why complicated? Is he all right? Where is he?” Dante demanded.

    “Stay calm,” Kinon said, resting a hand on Dante’s right arm. A golden pattern of lines wove up from Dante’s wrist to the center of his chest. “Tani saved you through your bond. He made you a hybrid fire ekho. Then, when the transformation finished, the Palladium Gates pulled him back to our realm.”

    “So,” Dante said, rising to his feet, “Tani isn’t here?”

    “He’s in the Ekho Realm,” Amu confirmed.

    “I’ll go to him,” Dante said without hesitation. He stepped around Kinon’s chair, entered his closet for a T-shirt and a light jacket, then ran a hand through his hair in frustration. Emerging, he found the three ekhos watching him. “What?”

    “You don’t think you need time to adjust to your new—” Amu began.

    “I need to find Tani,” Dante cut in, zipping up his jacket. He turned to Kinon and the woman—Sahdrina—his expression resolute. “How do I get to him?”

    “Um—” Kinon started.

    “You have to go through the Palladium Gates,” Sahdrina said. “If you don’t have enough power to reach the other side, the Gates will lock you out. Are you sure you want to try?”

    “I won’t try,” Dante said, voice firm. “I’ll succeed. Take me to him.”

    “Dante—” Amu began, hoping to calm him, but the memory of Tani risking everything for him ignited Dante’s determination.

    “Take. Me. To. Him,” Dante repeated, his aura pressing in on those around him.

    Kinon and Amu exchanged weary looks, while Sahdrina stepped forward and took Dante’s right hand.

    “Let’s go,” she said, then teleported them to the Palladium Gates. Kinon and Amu arrived moments later, and Dante found himself staring at a pair of towering silver-white Gates.

    “Lord Tani is beyond these Gates,” Sahdrina explained. “Once you enter, you will face three similar gates. Each one opens once you’ve crossed the stretch leading up to it. The power inside whittles you down to your essence, your intentions, your true self. Don’t present ambiguous intentions. The gates will transport you to the Ekho Realm if you can withstand the raw power inside. Otherwise, you’ll end up back here—locked out. Do you understand?”

    Dante nodded. He felt the endless well of fire in his chest surge at the challenge. He understood the stakes. His entire being bristled with resolve.

    “Good luck,” Sahdrina said quietly, stepping aside so he could face the colossal Gates head-on.

    Dante glanced at Amu, then at Kinon, before fixing his attention on the Gates that barred him from Tani. Determination fueled every breath he took.

    He drew in a steadying breath and entered the silver-white Palladium Gates. They brimmed with immense power designed to keep mortals out. Only those with Ekho blood could hope to cross, and even then, only with colossal strength. Dante clenched his fists and stepped forward, feeling the swirling currents of energy threaten to tear him apart. Each step felt heavy, the power pressing against his very being, as though to strip him down—skin, flesh, to bone.

    Still, he kept going, step by step, each footfall heavier than the last. He reached for the bottomless well of fire magik inside him to bolster his strength, and gradually the steps grew easier. He filled his mind with Tani’s sweet confession.

    I’ve never regretted loving you. Every second I’ve spent with you has been the brightest adventure of my life,” Tani had said. “You’ve been my favorite person for a thousand years, and you always will be. I love you, Dante Arturo.”

    Dante inhaled a calming breath and pressed on toward the second gate. The moment he stepped through, it slid closed behind him, revealing another stretching path filled with a crushing force of power. He intensified his fire magik, meeting that force with his own, refusing to be bullied. He pushed forward, step by step, every fiber of his being focused on reaching Tani.

    The suffocating power slammed against him, forcing Dante to draw on the fire magik reserves Tani’s immortal blood had awakened. Though the Gates fought him, he refused to yield, clinging to his love for Tani—his desire for a life together, his need to have Tani with him every day, every hour. When he reached the midpoint, the third gate slid open, and he stepped into a stifling pocket of potent power. This must be where the divide between realms began. It was so difficult to step forward that he fell on the ground twice, unable to get up. When he finally got on his feet, it took everything to resist collapsing again.

    Dante breathed in and out, centering himself. He took a single step, and for a moment, he felt weightless before the crushing power surged again, whittling him down to his essence. Suddenly, breathing got easier, and Dante was left with a burning resolve to reach the other side—to see Tani, to hold him, to kiss him. He reached the fourth door in an instant, his magik propelling him with a mere thought, and as the doors opened, he was startled to find himself stark naked. His mortal clothes were gone. But he had done it. He had entered the Ekho Realm.

    Dante smiled widely, alive with excitement and joy.

    “You’ll need these,” Sahdrina said from behind him as she handed him a white tunic with gold embroidery at the hems, a pair of trousers, and sandals. “You have nothing from the Ekho Realm, which is why you appear with nothing. Bare, in your true essence.”

    Dante pulled on the tunic and trousers swiftly and took the sandals from her.

    “Congratulations,” Sahdrina said. “You’re the first of your kind to enter this realm.”

    Dante’s eyes widened, and she smiled. “Others are born with Ekho blood. You’re the first to be made. Lord Tani has broken barriers in the realm. It’s a historic first.”

    Tani. Dante’s heart stuttered. “How do I get to him now?”

    Sahdrina took his arm and guided him down steep steps to a grassy patch. Beyond the grass stretched an endless expanse of water; Dante could not tell whether it was a lake or an ocean. It felt too vast. When they reached the grass, the Gates opened, and Amu and Kinon stepped out—looking drastically different from how Dante remembered them in the mortal realm. Amu’s irises had turned into slits, reminiscent of a fox’s eyes, and his red hair was longer. He wore a green tunic, black trousers tucked into black boots, and a dark green overcoat with gold chevrons on the sleeves. He looked majestic. Kinon, beside him, wore dark trousers and a red sleeveless tunic, his feet clad in sandals. Heavy gold cuffs decorated his arms. Dante supposed they were purely ornamental, unlike the ones Tani had worn before.

    “He’s impatient about meeting Lord Tani,” Sahdrina said with a small smile. “Lord Kinon, will you reach out to Immortal Lord Sunu?”

    “No need,” came a voice from behind Dante. He turned to find Tani’s father. Sunu looked stronger somehow. He wore a long white tunic open at the chest, with subtle gold edging around the sleeves, hem, and neck. His loose-fitting trousers were trimmed with gold embroidery near the ankles. The broad, ornate gold sash around his waist matched the thick gold armbands on his forearms, and his white open-toed sandals were strapped with gold accents. Each step he took turned the grass greener, and Dante imagined flowers springing up behind him.

    “You’ve come,” Sunu said upon reaching Dante. He extended his right hand in greeting, and Dante moved to shake it—but Sunu gripped his forearm instead. Dante did the same, recognizing it as a warrior’s handshake. He met Sunu’s gaze and smiled when Sunu grinned.

    “I welcome you to the Ekho Realm and bless your bond with my son, Tani. May you share many beautiful experiences.”

    “Thank you,” Dante said, looking over Sunu’s shoulder. “May I see Tani now?”

    “Certainly,” Sunu said, still holding Dante’s arm as he turned to Kinon, Amu, and Sahdrina. “Call the Septum to a gathering. There are changes to be made.”

    “I’ll arrange it, Lord Sunu,” Kinon said.

    “I’ll be in the Zona Forest residence,” Sunu said. “Let the gathering happen there.”

    “Right away,” Kinon said, and departed, followed by Sahdrina.

    “Amu,” Sunu said, offering his left hand. “I’ll take you to your sister. She’s been taking care of Tani.”

    “All right,” Amu replied, taking Sunu’s left hand. In a breathtaking moment, Sunu transported them to a house deep in a forest.

    So much light streamed into the house that at first Dante mistook the wide windows for empty openings. It felt like a jungle paradise, and Dante let go of Sunu’s arm, taking in the main hall with awe.

    “Tani is in the master room on the second floor,” Sunu said, pointing to a set of stone stairs. Dante didn’t wait for more prompting. He took the steps two at a time and, upon reaching the second floor, raced toward an open door where he heard a woman humming a beautiful, lilting tune.

    He burst into the room at top speed, startling the red-haired woman perched on the right side of a large bed. She stopped humming and glanced over, still holding Tani’s right hand. A slight frown appeared on her forehead before it vanished, replaced by a radiant grin.

    “Dante!” she said, breathless with excitement. “You made it!”

    “Yes,” Dante said, deciding this must be Anit—Tani’s mother. Her red hair gave her away.

    “Come, hurry,” she beckoned, standing as he reached the bed. “Sit, touch him. It will wake him from the endless sleep.”

    “What’s wrong with him?” Dante asked, his gaze roaming over Tani lying quietly on the bed. He looked so handsome that Dante scooted closer and leaned over him, pressing a kiss to his forehead. Heart thundering, he rained soft kisses across Tani’s face, ending with a tender brush against his lips.

    “Baby?” Dante murmured against Tani’s mouth.

    Dante, Tani’s defeated voice filled his mind, and Dante buried his face into Tani’s shoulder. I left you in the mortal realm. I’m sorry.

    Open your eyes, Dante responded in kind, thrilled to discover he could speak with Tani this way. Wake up! I crossed the Palladium Gates to find you. What are you doing sleeping here?

    The wave of happiness that flooded Tani was immediate, flowing into Dante so vividly that tears gathered in his eyes. Tani’s joy at the thought of seeing him again was overwhelming. Dante sat up, smiling wide when Tani’s eyelids fluttered open.

    “Wake up,” Dante said, cupping Tani’s cheek. “Don’t you miss—?”

    Tani sat up and wrapped his arms around Dante, a shocked, delighted gasp escaping him.

    Anit laughed and clapped her hands, practically bouncing on her feet.

    Dante held Tani close, burying his face in Tani’s hair, relief coursing through him in waves. No words were necessary. They had survived an ordeal beyond description.

    Tani trembled with joy, and Anit patted his shoulder, then squeezed Dante’s arm, nodding in quiet approval.

    “I love you,” Dante whispered in Tani’s ear, unwilling to let him go.

    “I love you, too,” Tani replied.

    ****

    Dante held Tani for a moment longer before he leaned back to take him in. He smiled when he noticed Tani’s hair—it had grown quite a bit, no longer trimmed to the style Hera had once insisted on. The red-brown locks, now at shoulder length, were tipped in white. Dante frowned slightly as he reached out to touch those pale edges.

    “Your hair,” he began.

    Tani blushed and lifted a hand to his hair with a small shrug. “Yeah, the gates put everything back the way they remember from my first crossing. I had shoulder-length hair when I left after the trial, so now it’s like this.”

    “I love it.” Dante kissed his cheek, still touching the white ends. He smiled. “Will you turn into a white-haired fox?”

    Tani grinned and shifted on the bed, folding his legs beneath him. Dante moved behind Tani so he could lean against him.

    “In our realm, white hair is envied,” Tani said. “White hair means power—like, destroy-a-planet kind of power. Ekhos strive to gain white hair.”

    Dante chuckled. “Are you trying to tell me I should be proud that my boyfriend is powerful now?”

    Tani turned to look at him. “I feel your love warming my heart. Our bond pulses with your fire magik. Your breath on my skin sets me aflame. At this point, can you really call me your boyfriend?”

    “What should I call you?” Dante asked softly.

    “You are my bondmate,” Tani said. “We are bonded for the rest of our lives. Our fates are tied together for an endless eternity. You are my beloved.”

    “Then…” Dante leaned in to whisper in Tani’s right ear. “In my world, you are my husband. Will you marry me, Tani Ryuzo?”

    Tani kissed Dante’s left cheek, then his right, before claiming his lips with a soft press. “Yes.”

    Dante smiled and pulled Tani into his arms, holding him close. He noticed Anit and Amu standing by the windows, talking quietly, and giving them space. Dante was simply grateful to hold Tani, knowing they now had many days ahead of them, free from the threat of separation.

    He eased back onto the plush pillows with Tani resting against his chest, Tani’s face buried in his shoulder, and Dante’s arms wrapped tight around him.

    “I was so scared I wouldn’t be able to cross the Palladium Gates,” Dante said. “I got about halfway in, and the pressure was overwhelming. I—” He stopped himself and traced Tani’s jaw with his index finger. “I thought about you while I was crossing, and suddenly it got easier. Will it always be like that?”

    “No,” Tani said, closing his eyes as he clasped Dante’s wrist. “The first time is the hardest. From now on, the gates will recognize that you belong in the Ekho Realm. Crossing will get easier.”

    “That’s good news,” Dante said. “I want to take you back to Artri House and have a wedding there. I want everyone to know you’re mine, too. I want to see Hera and Deniz visiting the vineyard, and I want us to travel here so I can learn more about this realm. Mostly, I want to spend time with you.”

    Tani chuckled and leaned back to see Dante’s face. “I love all these wants.”

    “So,” Dante said after a moment, “what does it mean to be a hybrid fire ekho?”

    “It means whatever you want it to mean,” Tani replied. “You are part of Kinon’s bloodline, so you still have your fire magik. You can cross the Palladium Gates whenever you like. Best of all,”—Tani’s voice softened— “we’ll be together, and time is no longer my greatest enemy. I have only one thing to say in reply to your many fascinating wants.”

    “What’s that?” Dante asked, shifting so he could look into Tani’s eyes.

    “I want to be with you,” Tani said simply.

    Dante grinned and leaned down to kiss him, relief vibrating through his entire being.

    ***

    “The Fox Clan must face change,” Amu said after listening to Anit’s account of Zal and Tara’s manipulations. “I knew Zal existed, but I never imagined our big brother would go to such lengths to disrupt governance.”

    “He thinks we’re squandering the power our bloodline has gathered,” Anit said with a small smile. “I suppose peaceful times do breed improbable villains. Nela Bao is busy cleaning up the Anael Sentinel Branch. Aero, the hybrid child with a sister in the mortal realm, is being taken to the Dark Fort by Bao Sentinels. He claims our court mistreated his family.”

    “It isn’t our fault the Dragon Clan dislikes mixed blood,” Amu said. “They’re the ones who treat their hybrid children worse than all the other clans. I heard a rumor that Aero and his sister were born in the mortal realm. Their mother chose to enter the afterlife when their father returned to the Dragon Clan’s lands. Aero followed him, but Selene couldn’t cross the Palladium Gates. None of that is the Fox Clan’s doing.”

    “Perhaps,” Anit said with a sigh. “Either way, Aero inflicted terrible pain on my son to avenge his own suffering, which is why he’s going to the Dark Fort.”

    Anit glanced at Dante and Tani, who were whispering to each other on the bed. She smiled.

    “At least there’s happiness at the end of this trial,” Anit said. “Tani has accomplished what he set out to prove, and his reward is here. My son stood by his convictions. He inspires me to do the same.”

    “What happens now?” Amu asked.

    “We live, Amu,” Anit said softly. “We do all the things we dreamed of before the calamity began.”

    “Does that include returning to Lord Sunu?” Amu asked. “You’ve been angry with him for so long. Can you forgive him for letting you leave?”

    Anit studied Tani and Dante for a silent moment, then turned to the scenery beyond the windows. Sunu and Kinon had spared no effort in restoring and nurturing the Zona Forest. The trees shimmered with healthy leaves, and the water was clear and sweet-scented. It was a truly peaceful place.

    “I’ll let it run its course,” Anit said finally. She glanced at her brother. “Amu, thank you for looking after my son all this time.”

    “He’s my son, too,” Amu said.

    “Then I hope you’ll bring me a son to look after one of these days,” Anit teased with a grin.

    Amu chuckled and clasped his hands behind his back, turning to admire the view as well.

    Anit looked back at Tani, noticing the way Dante kept touching the white tips of his hair. Without thinking, she reached out to Sunu across a bond she had ignored for decades.

    Our son’s power has manifested, she said silently. The relief flooding from Sunu at the sound of her voice was overwhelming. It warmed her from within.

    How has it manifested? he asked.

    His hair is turning silver at the ends, Anit replied.

    Then the amulet will seek a new owner.

    Will you fight it? Anit pictured the round, heavy amulet Sunu wore on a chain.

    No. It’s time to change this realm’s perspective. We must evolve.

    All right, Anit said, her heart pounding.

    It’s good to hear you like this, Sunu said, sending a surge of warmth through their neglected bond. I’ve missed you, Anit.

    Heat rose in Anit’s cheeks. Before she could respond, Sunu’s voice resumed.

    I’ll relinquish the amulet now. Guide him to accept it.

    She had no time to ask what he meant. A soft gasp came from Tani, and she turned to see him and Dante on the bed. Dante sat behind Tani, arms wrapped around his waist, while Tani stared at a glowing circle of light hovering above them.

    “What is it?” Dante asked, eyeing the shimmering amulet.

    “Your father’s amulet,” Amu said, taking Anit’s hand as they moved closer. “He must have relinquished it so it could seek a more powerful owner.”

    “What?” Tani breathed as a beam of light from the amulet pierced into his heart. His right hand shot out to grasp it, his back arching. Dante’s grip around his torso held him steady.

    Power surged around them as the amulet pulled Tani’s energy inward, almost as if it were remaking itself. A minute later, the light faded. The amulet, now dull and motionless, lay in Tani’s palm with a long gold chain hanging from it.

    Tani looked at it for a breath before turning to his mother. “What does this mean?”

    “It means the Ekho Realm acknowledges the most powerful ekho in each generation,” Anit said. “You’re Sunu’s heir.”

    “I’m not ready for this.” Tani lifted the chain and let the amulet dangle. “I barely escaped one trial—I’m not jumping into another.”

    “I don’t blame you for seeing leadership as another cage,” Anit said gently. “But consider that your trial prepared you for what’s ahead. In any case, you don’t have to take on any responsibilities right now. You’re young, and there’s so much to look forward to. I’ll share a secret.”

    “What secret?” Tani asked, eyeing the amulet.

    “Tell your father you want him to keep his position,” Anit said. “Say you’re not ready to assume responsibilities yet. He’ll support you. I know because we’re doing the same thing for the Fox Clan. I’ll clean up the Inter Clan Court, make sure it’s running smoothly, and leave everything prepared for when you’re ready.”

    “Isn’t this just a ploy to pull me back here to do your jobs?” Tani asked, sounding a bit resentful.

    “What can I say? You’re our only child,” Anit said with a laugh.

    Tani sighed just as the amulet vibrated on his palm. He frowned and looked at Amu and Anit. “Something’s happening downstairs. I feel a surge of power filling the house.”

    “Your father has called the Septum,” Anit explained.

    “Your trial is officially over,” Amu added with a smile. “Your beloved’s determination in crossing the Palladium Gates was inspiring. He helped resolve any concerns the Septum had. You’re lucky, Tani, to have someone so devoted to you.”

    Tani smiled and started to turn to Dante, but Dante’s head sank onto Tani’s right shoulder, and he released a quiet snore—fast asleep.

    Tani grinned. “I guess crossing wore him out.”

    “I suppose,” Anit said with a nod. “Let him rest. You have time now. Let’s get you dressed. You might need to meet the Septum for a few minutes.”

    “Mm.” Tani shifted, carefully settling Dante on the bed so he could sleep comfortably. He leaned over and pressed a gentle kiss to Dante’s lips, smiling when Dante murmured his name and kept hold of his hand.

    Tani brushed back Dante’s hair, pausing when he saw the gold Elderwood leaves on Dante’s right ear—four shining studs, half Elderwood, half flame. As he touched those studs, relief and gratitude swept through him. He was thankful, above all, that Dante was here with him.

    ***

    Sunu stood in the living area of Tani’s house in the Zona Forest, gazing outside with a pensive look. He could feel the stares of his fellow Septum members behind him. Most of all, the wave of happiness emanating from the master bedroom upstairs was hard to ignore. Dante and Tani were reunited, clinging to each other, while Amu and Anit reveled in their joy. Sunu smiled.

    “Lord Sunu,” Mizian said, “why did you call the council?”

    “My son’s trial has ended,” Sunu said, clasping his hands behind his back. “The cuffs on his wrists are gone, and he has resolved the question the Septum gave him. We should have given him time back then.”

    “Are you regretting a decision?” Eren asked, surprise in her voice.

    “Perhaps,” Sunu said. “I wouldn’t call it regret, but a painful lesson. Tani’s trial was mine, too. Watching him go through this has been very difficult.”

    Silence filled the room until Kinon spoke.

    “I would like to update the Septum on recent events in the Inter Clan Court,” Kinon said, then began a detailed account of Zal’s incident and Anit’s decision. “Anit’s sentinels are compiling the details of Zal’s case. There are accomplices to contend with, such as Aero of the Dragon Clan, who has been sentenced to the Dark Fort. Meanwhile, Lua Wadi will serve his sentence with Sahdrina.”

    “Will Lady Izuna seek compensation from the Septum?” Mizian asked. “None of us could have imagined that this would happen to her son—or her—when we decided to send Lord Tani to that trial.”

    “I wouldn’t blame her if she wanted to,” Eren said, her tone full of sorrow.

    “The Fox Goddess is not irrational,” Rianon said. “She won’t retaliate over a genuine decision the Septum made under the initial circumstances of our judgment. By the Ekho Realm’s rules, we asked Lord Tani to prove his reasoning. He went to the mortal realm of his own volition. The Septum agreed to meet all his terms. The judgment was sound.”

    “There is no argument on this truth, Rianon,” said Helia, the fertility goddess. “However, we, as a governing council, must consider that the Septum’s rigid rules and doctrines regarding inter-clan relationships—specifically between the Immortal Clan and the Fox Clan—have negatively impacted Lady Izuna and Lord Sunu’s relationship. Our initial judgment also disregarded Lord Tani’s feelings and his right to choose whom he loves.”

    “I decided during Tani’s trial to interfere because of Lady Helia’s theory,” Kinon said. “Lord Tani’s calamity had gone on far too long, and outside forces were meddling. I manipulated Dante into the Arturo bloodline to even the odds. The fact that I had to do so proved there was something wrong. Yet, aside from that single intervention, I made no further effort because of our strict rules. I just…didn’t think to.”

    They all paused in thought before Cale pushed away from the wall.

    “Having just left Dante’s family in distress over their missing son and accompanied Lord Tani through his calamity, I dare say I understand Lady Anit’s hostility toward the Septum,” Cale said. “Our rules may be set in stone, but I believe they deserve addendums. Not every situation is black and white, and none of us could have accurately judged Lord Tani’s intentions toward Dante.”

    “I would defend the Septum,” Sunu said. “The decision at the time was made based on what we understood as a governing body.”

    “Fair enough,” Cale said with a nod. “But what happens now that he’s proved his love? I’d say Lord Tani has transcended that love. What happens next?”

    “Perhaps we need to review our rigid stance,” Mizian said after a long pause.

    “Having matchmade souls from different clans who face endless trials, I back this thought,” Helia said with an approving nod.

    “I would suggest we keep the rules as they are,” Eren said, drawing a frown from Cale. She smiled. “However, we should write an addendum to manage any deviations from our rigid stance. After all, a clear break from our current rules may lead to the abuse of an ekho’s gifts. Lord Cale, your Dark Fort could become overrun with those who choose to cause harm in the name of love.”

    “Perhaps,” Cale said with a hesitant nod.

    “Then,” Rianon said, eyeing the hallway where Anit stood, “it looks like the Septum’s rule will be evolving.”

    “What a grand gesture,” Anit said as she walked slowly to join them. “I’m not here to place blame. There have been mistakes all around—mine more than others. However, as head of the Inter Clan Court, I believe it is my duty to note the following. The Septum’s errors are rooted in the council’s rigid adherence to tradition, the failure to consider individual circumstances and emotions, and an inability to foresee or address the broader consequences of your judgments. I don’t claim to be any better at those things, but there should be due diligence in special cases.”

    “Does your offered opinion mean you will consider returning to the council?” Kinon asked.

    Anit looked around the room, meeting each person’s gaze, then smiled when her eyes settled on Sunu. “I’ll leave the Fox Clan’s decisions to the new Immortal Lord. He is of the blood and powerful enough to suppress my own. I will adhere to his wishes. The Fox Clan is now under his purview.”

    Sunu chuckled and stepped into the informal circle his council members had formed.

    “I also leave the Immortal Clan’s decisions to the new Immortal Lord. He is of the blood and powerful enough to use my power to create a hybrid ekho. I will adhere to his wishes. The Immortal Clan is now under his purview.”

    “Lord Sunu,” Mizian said, his eyes widening in surprise.

    A small movement behind Anit caught Sunu’s attention. Anit shifted to her right, revealing Tani standing by the staircase. His hair was longer now, thanks to his growing power. The red-brown strands fell to his shoulders and were slowly turning white, as though erasing the last remnant of his childhood hair color. The longer his hair grew, the faster his power manifested its traits. In time, Sunu knew Tani’s hair would turn completely white, and he would be at full power, stronger than him.

    Tani wore a deep blue tunic with vivid gold embroidery on the short sleeves and around the collar’s opening, wide dark trousers, and no shoes. A broad gold belt circled his waist, and an amulet hung from it—an amulet they all recognized, because Sunu had worn it for ages.

    The amulet always shifted to the most powerful being in the Ekho Realm whenever there was a significant change in power. Seeing it on Tani’s belt confirmed that Sunu Ryuzo had acknowledged this change and allowed it without challenge.

    The Septum, as one, turned to Tani. They raised their right palms, manifesting their powers, then directed those energies into the amulet to affirm the shift in allegiance. It was telling that Sunu, Cale, and Anit followed suit, sending their own power into the amulet on Tani’s belt.

    As the mingled rays of power met and were absorbed by the amulet, a golden light filled the room, revealing the Ekho Realm’s creator. She appeared in the form of a woman with white hair, dressed in pristine emerald robes.

    “The age of a hybrid born of the Immortal Lord and the Fox Goddess begins. Tani Ryuzo, you shall be the Realm’s Emperor—born of two powerful beings, raised by the mortal realm. I await seeing how vibrantly your era will bloom. Be blessed.”

    When the light faded, the room fell into silence until Tani cleared his throat, drawing his father’s attention.

    “Dad, I’m not keen on doing your job for the time being,” Tani said. “Can you fill in? I still have things to do in the mortal realm. I want to spend time with Dante’s family—and mine. I’m not ready.”

    Sunu smiled and drew Tani into a tight hug. “Your mortal family is beautiful, and I’m glad you get to be with them now. But don’t forget, Anit and I are your family, too. Make sure to visit us often.”

    Tani exhaled and wrapped his arms around Sunu before burying his face in his father’s shoulder. They held each other for a moment, then Sunu stepped back. Anit moved in front of Tani, and they regarded each other cautiously. She reached out to touch Tani’s white hair, her fingers moving over the pale strands in a mix of awe and concern.

    Tani started to speak, but Anit spoke first.

    “I’ll clean up the Inter Clan Court for you,” Anit said. “It’s the least I can do, after all that has happened. I’ll discuss major decisions regarding the clan with you. Nela Bao will seek your counsel in the mortal realm whenever she needs it.”

    Tani swallowed hard and met her gaze. “Mom,” he said after a moment. “Don’t punish Dad any longer. I’m sure he misses you. He hasn’t stopped staring at you since you walked in.”

    Sunu coughed while the rest of the Septum chuckled. Anit blushed and gave Tani’s hair a playful tug, making him frown. She stopped at once, then leaned in to kiss his cheek.

    “Go with your Dante,” Anit said. “We’ll look after the realm.”

    “Hm,” Tani said, grinning as Anit let go of him. He stepped back and winked at Cale before addressing Anit and Sunu. “Dad, Mom, you owe me a sibling after all this. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if you blessed this realm with another descendant? He can share in the governance. I can’t wait to be a brother.”

    He vanished from the living area, and Sunu tried to hide his wide smile when Anit turned to glare at him.

    “Who’s interested in having children with you?” she demanded, scowling. Then she pointed at Helia. “Don’t get any ideas from Tani’s comment. We’ve already done a perfect job of screwing up parenting our only son. We don’t need more trouble.”

    “Oh,” Helia said. She gave Sunu a brief nod and disappeared in a glittering shimmer, accompanied by a delighted chuckle.

    “Lord Tani is so entertaining,” Mizian said. “I’m sure I’ll love his era as the Elderwood master. Call me if you need anything, Lord Sunu. Lady Eren, we’ll leave writing the addendums to you.”

    He departed in a wide circle of wind.

    “He’s always like that,” Rianon said, shaking her head. “I’ll help with anything you need—just don’t ask me to do the legwork on the exceptions.”

    “Mm,” Eren said. “I know. I’ll find you when I’m ready to present a semblance of the new rules.”

    Rianon glanced at Cale, then at Sunu and Anit. “It’s been an entertaining time. Your house never disappoints with interesting episodes. I look forward to the next one.”

    She waved and shimmered away in a cloud of water droplets.

    “Well,” Kinon said, clapping his hands. “I’ve had enough fun to last me a few years. Lord Sunu, do call if you need anything. I’m off to tend my vines—I’ve neglected them too long. I’ll send a package of my best wine to the new emperor.”

    “I’m sure he’ll love it,” Sunu said as Kinon disappeared in a cloud of yellow fire.

    Suddenly, only Cale, Anit, and Sunu remained in the room.

    Cale settled into an armchair, studying Anit and Sunu. Noting their hopeful looks, he chuckled softly and lifted his hands in surrender.

    “Right, I don’t want to be the third wheel, brother. I just wanted to say I’m on Tani’s side. A new life might mellow Anit’s temper.” He quickly raised his hands again when a thorny vine rustled in his direction. “I gotta go manage Aero and his misdeeds. See you, Sunu. Anit.”

    He vanished with a dark shimmer, leaving Sunu to sigh.

    “Forgive him. He’s always like this,” Sunu said.

    “I know,” Anit said, clasping her hands. “I-uh—you—”

    “Would you like to explore Tani’s hidden apple orchard?” Sunu asked. “I’ve wanted to see it for a long time. Cale gave me the coordinates.”

    “I’d love to,” Anit said, breaking into a wide smile.

    “Great,” Sunu said, then held out his right hand. “We can spend a day in Tani’s world for a while.”

    Anit took his hand, letting him pull her closer into a firm embrace, and she returned it in full. Their bond filled the spaces left by their long separation. Sunu’s heart soared when he felt Anit’s breath catch with excitement as he leaned in to kiss her.

    ****

    A year later, in the mortal realm, Nora Arturo set a vase of white tulips on a stand in the garden. She gently adjusted one of the blooms, then stepped back to admire the once-ordinary backyard now transformed into a picturesque wedding venue. Rows of chairs draped in soft linens faced a white gazebo, and lace-covered tables were arranged around it. Elderflowers from Hera and Deniz adorned each centerpiece, their sweet fragrance mingling with the June summer air. The buffet was prepared, and the musicians were tuning their instruments, filling the atmosphere with cheerful anticipation.

    Clapping her hands in satisfaction, Nora turned at the sound of Christophe calling her name. He stepped out of the kitchen looking handsome in a cream suit with a crisp white shirt. He wrapped an arm around her waist and kissed her cheek.

    “Dante is getting married for love,” Christophe said, gazing at the floral arrangements. “I almost can’t believe it. I worried he’d remain distant forever.”

    “Quite a change from the young man who was always so cold with everyone,” Nora agreed with a soft laugh. “But Tani has him smiling more. Yesterday, he was running around the vineyard with Deniz, laughing like a carefree boy. It was a delight to see, especially after that awful period he went missing last summer.”

    “Well,” Christophe said, drawing her closer, “he’ll live here with Tani. You won’t need to worry so much about him being alone anymore.”

    “Mm.” Nora nodded. “I’m thrilled about it. And now Tani’s introduced me to Selene, the dragon ekho who took over the auction. She made me a partner in the business. It’ll mean some traveling.”

    “That’s wonderful,” Christophe said. “You’ve always dreamed of having a thriving venture of your own.”

    “Yes,” Nora murmured, her eyes bright with excitement. “And it helps to have Tani around, especially if anyone tries to cause trouble like Aero did.”

    “Aero’s actions were unfortunate, but at least everything was resolved,” Christophe replied. “Grandfather Landi is in Kirtland checking on our grandchildren. Viola and her boyfriend moved in together, and April and Zach are doing well. Maybe we should invite them all here this summer.”

    “Let’s talk to Dante and Tani about it,” Nora said with a sigh. “We’d need plenty of planning to hide the house’s magik.”

    Christophe nodded, then smiled when Tom King and his girlfriend, Haziran, emerged from the house. Haziran’s brunette hair framed a face glowing with excitement, and her flowing blue dress complemented Tom’s white slacks, matching loafers, and blue shirt.

    “Everyone’s arriving,” Tom said as they exchanged greetings.

    “You look gorgeous, Haziran,” Nora said warmly. She turned to Tom. “So, when are you proposing?”

    Haziran lifted her right hand with a smile, revealing an emerald ring on her middle finger. “He proposed yesterday. We’re keeping it quiet until after Dante and Tani’s wedding—this is their day.”

    “Oh, congratulations!” Nora exclaimed, pulling Haziran into a tight hug. “I’m so happy for you.”

    Tom beamed when Christophe shook his hand. “Just keep it under wraps for now,” Tom whispered, looking over his shoulder as the door opened again.

    Deniz bounded out, her mother, Hera, right behind her. The little girl held two lilies in her hand.

    “What’s this, Deniz?” Nora asked.

    “Mom says you’re my new grandmother,” Deniz explained. “Lilies mean pure love. I know we won’t live in the same house, but I’ll love you always.”

    Tears threatened to spill from Nora’s eyes as she hugged Deniz. “I’ll love you too, Deniz. Always,” she said, then touched the child’s pretty blue dress. “Your dress is beautiful. I love the ribbons.”

    “Aunt Haziran had it made for me,” Deniz said proudly, spinning in a graceful circle. Her neatly brushed ponytail swung with each turn.

    Nora straightened and kissed Deniz’s forehead. Deniz handed the other flower to Christophe and declared him her grandfather. He lifted her high, making her giggle.

    “You’re spoiling her,” Hera teased as Nora hugged her in greeting.

    “Let her enjoy this,” Christophe said, setting Deniz on her feet. “Today is a celebration—two families becoming one.”

    “It’s certainly a happy occasion,” Hera agreed, smoothing the skirt of her elegant, deep-blue dress. A slit revealed a flash of her legs, and gold pins secured her intricate braids. “Babu’s wedding is the perfect excuse to dress up. We all have to show out.”

    “I’m glad you’re here,” Nora said, hugging Hera again. After they spoke for a few moments, Hera went to find her seat as Amu, Cale, Anit, and Sunu arrived, each looking stylish. Anit wore a vibrant blue gown threaded with delicate gold embroidery; her hair was pinned at her temple with matching gold barrettes, and she held Sunu’s arm.

    Nora drew a steadying breath. “It’s not every day you meet such powerful beings,” she murmured to Christophe.

    “Don’t be nervous,” he whispered, squeezing her hand.

    Anit released Sunu’s arm and approached Nora with open arms. Surprised and touched, Nora returned the hug.

    “We’re family now,” Anit said, patting Nora’s back. “My son is yours, as yours is mine. Let’s protect their happiness together.”

    Nora’s worries melted at Anit’s warmth, and she introduced Anit and Sunu to Christophe. The pair were just as gracious to him. Once greetings were exchanged, they all took their places at the front of the garden.

    More guests soon arrived—Dante’s colleagues, friends from the island, the Elderwood conservancy staff, and Tani’s acquaintances from around the globe. Nora delighted in introducing Tani’s parents to everyone, buoyed by Anit’s supportive presence at her side.

    By two o’clock, it was time for the ceremony to begin. Anit and Sunu settled in seats of honor, while Nora and Christophe took their own reserved spots. Rianon stood at the head of the gazebo to officiate, alongside a local judge. Tani’s lawyer, Vidar Badem, was present to oversee the paperwork.

    Nora checked her watch, its display clicking to 2:00 p.m., then glanced up as Dante and Tani stepped out of the house hand in hand. They paused for a moment, gazing at each other, framed by the golden afternoon light. Tani wore an ivory tuxedo with a red rose pinned to his lapel; Dante wore a black tuxedo, accented with a sprig of elderflowers. Soft music began to play, and they walked down the aisle toward the gazebo.

    The judge opened the ceremony with the legal vows. Dante and Tani signed the marriage license with Vidar and Rianon as witnesses. When the judge stamped the document and handed it over, cheers broke out. Tani raised the license for the crowd to see, then tucked it into the inner pocket of Dante’s jacket, smoothing his hand over the fabric. Dante patted his pocket, drawing laughter from all around.

    Next, Rianon presented two rings, forged with a golden metal shot through with a faint red gleam in the depths of the volcanic mountains in Kinon’s territory.

    Rianon gave Dante’s ring to Tani, and handed Tani Dante’s ring. She smiled and said, “Make your vows.”

    Dante turned to Tani and, with a solemn look, he took Tani’s left hand and slid the ring he held on Tani’s ring finger. “I will love you now and forever,” he promised. “I’ll stand by you through calamity and joy, always.”

    Tani took a deep breath when he felt the warmth of his ring on his finger. He took Dante’s left hand and slid a ring on his ring finger. Meeting Dante’s gaze, he said, “I’ve loved you and will continue loving you. I will walk beside you, through calamity and joy, forevermore.”

    Unseen by most mortals, a soft red glow appeared, stretching from Tani’s left wrist to Dante’s, binding them briefly before fading away.

    Rianon raised her hands in blessing. “May you find joy and love forevermore. Tani Ryuzo Arturo and Dante Arturo Ryuzo—forever one. You may kiss to seal your bond.”

    Dante drew Tani into his arms, their kiss sparking rousing applause. Tom whistled as the Elderwood staff and other guests joined in exuberant cheers.

    Arm in arm, Tani and Dante turned to greet everyone as a married couple. The celebration that followed was filled with laughter, music, and heartfelt toasts. Tom and Hera performed a spirited song, children from the neighborhood danced in a whirlwind of color and enthusiasm, and guests delivered impromptu speeches brimming with best wishes. The lively reception lasted well into the night, uniting two families in a garden wedding that glowed with love, hope, and the promise of a bright future.

    ****

    “Look,” Dante whispered to Tani late that evening, as they both sat at a small table sipping wine. Music drifted through the air, and guests circled the dance floor or chatted in lively clusters under fairy lights.

    Tani followed Dante’s gaze and spotted Vidar inviting Hera to dance. At first, Hera hesitated, but Deniz placed her mother’s hand in Vidar’s, urging her with an eager smile. Vidar’s face lit up as he led Hera to the dance floor, and the music shifted to a gentle melody. They began to sway in time, looking radiant together.

    “There’s always hope for love,” Tani murmured, turning to Dante. “Are you tired? Do you want to slip away?”

    Dante kissed his left cheek. “I’d love that. Where to, my love?”

    “Not far,” Tani said, a mischievous grin lighting his features. “You owe me some time on the couch in your room.”

    Dante chuckled, stood, and took Tani’s left hand. Their departure didn’t go unnoticed. Shouts of congratulations and teasing cheers followed them until they reached the kitchen. Then, Tani wrapped his arms around Dante, ready to teleport—only Dante moved first, surrounding them in a swirl of blue fire that whisked them straight to his suite.

    “You’re getting so good at that,” Tani said, releasing Dante as he wandered to the wide windows overlooking the vineyard. “I’ve missed this place. We’ve been so busy these past months—helping Hera and Tom settle the conservancy’s guardianship, assisting Selene at the apple orchard, meeting all of my parents’ aides. It feels good to finally be home.”

    “Welcome back,” Dante said, coming up behind Tani and sliding an arm around his waist. “You know, Tani—”

    “Mm?”

    “Tani Ryuzo Arturo,” Dante said, his voice brimming with tenderness.

    Tani chuckled, leaning his head back against Dante’s shoulder and clasping Dante’s arms. “Yes, Dante?”

    “You really are my beloved,” Dante said softly, holding Tani as though he never wanted to let go.

    “And you are mine, Dante Arturo Ryuzo,” Tani said with equal reverence.

    Their reflections glimmered in the window, silhouetted by moonlight pouring over the vineyard. Beyond the glass, crickets serenaded the blossoming vines, the stars above shimmering with promise.

    In that quiet room, safe in each other’s arms, their hearts pulsed with the surety of an everlasting love—one they had fought for and won. And in that moment of peace and joy, the future seemed brighter than ever, their bond a promise of many more tomorrows.

    ***

    The End.

    <<Previous | Table of Contents

  • A Thousand Years of Hope Ch 24

    Seeing Dante in pain made Tani forget he could have used a simple teleport to get him onto the living room couch. He only realized it once Nora, Kinon, and he had laid Dante there and made sure he was comfortable.

    Nora brought a pair of scissors and cut away the sleeve of Dante’s T-shirt. Tani gasped at the sight of the kara ot crystals squirming beneath Dante’s skin, forming a disturbing black scar—like ink poured under his flesh—that snaked along his right arm.

    “What is this?” Nora asked, carefully touching Dante’s arm as Tani settled on the couch and rested Dante’s head in his lap.

    “Black weed,” Kinon said, bending close to examine it. “Tani’s mother dealt with a version of this, but I’ve never seen it move so fast. These are fine black crystals fusing with Dante’s blood. I’ll try to burn them off.”

    Tani met Dante’s worried gaze and tried to force a comforting smile, though fear coiled deep inside him—the same fear he’d felt each time he watched his beloved buried, nine times over. He dreaded a tenth. He would fight tooth and nail to stop it, but a whisper of terror told him he might fail. Holding Dante, he turned a pleading look on Kinon, who had closed his eyes and gripped Dante’s right wrist.

    Kinon sent potent fire magik rushing into Dante. Dante jolted and started trembling, sweat sheening his forehead. He clenched his teeth, and Tani dug shaking fingers into Dante’s hair, desperate to take away his pain. Kinon pushed his fire magik deeper, and Dante let out a ragged shout, the walls of Artri House trembling with the force of it. Tears leaked from the corners of Dante’s eyes, and Tani knew it was too much. The black crystals spread, doubling, and racing upward, consuming more of Dante’s right arm and creeping to his shoulder.

    Kinon released Dante’s arm and sat back on his heels, meeting Tani’s panicked stare.

    “What?” Tani asked, gripping Dante’s left hand.

    “I can’t burn it off,” Kinon admitted. “It’s binding to his magik too quickly, as though my fire is feeding it. You know why.”

    Tani’s gaze shifted to the horrendous dark scarring along Dante’s arm. He had hoped the pure energy from a Septum member could combat a kara ot infection.

    “This is my fault,” Tani whispered, catching Dante’s bloodshot eyes. “If I hadn’t brought us too close to that table, if we hadn’t bumped into it—”

    “Stop,” Dante rasped, his voice hoarse. “This isn’t your fault. It’s no one’s fault.”

    Tani shut his eyes, grabbing the front of Dante’s T-shirt in a tight fist, shaking his head. “There has to be a way. Dante, open Artri House. I’ll call Cale and my father.”

    “Okay,” Dante murmured, closing his eyes.

    Tani reached out for Cale through their mental bond, unable to hide the panic in his heart. Cale, find me at Artri House. Something happened to Dante.

    On my way, Cale answered at once.

    B-bring my father with you, Tani urged.

    When Tani opened his eyes again, Nora rested her head on Dante’s chest. Normally, wild kara ot would have latched on to her too, but it stayed inert, as if Dante alone was its target.

    “This is Zal,” Kinon confirmed, seeing Tani’s questioning look. “We were here when his lackey, Aero, gave Nora that vase. I thought it was a harmless gift and never examined it. I’m sorry.”

    Tani swallowed back a surge of dread. Then the doorbell rang, and he guessed Sunu had insisted on politeness. Nora sprinted off to answer it. Moments later, she led Sunu, Cale, and Amu back in. Dante tried to smile at Tani, but it came off as a strained grimace. Tani felt tears burn his eyes.

    “Immortal Lord,” Kinon greeted Sunu, stepping aside so Sunu could reach Dante. Tani watched as Sunu crouched and studied the black crystals crawling in Dante’s right arm.

    “He’s ekho-blessed,” Kinon explained. “The kara ot can’t be burned away. It’s bonded with his magik and is draining his vitality. When I tried to burn it out, my magik targeted his mortal genes.”

    Sunu pressed his hand to Dante’s right arm, and Dante jerked violently, swallowing a cry. Sunu withdrew, meeting Tani’s gaze with the same grim certainty Kinon wore.

    “I’m sorry,” Sunu said softly. “We keep the ekho-blessed away from this parasite for a reason. Pure ekho fire is dangerous to their mortal genes. Any attempt to purge it—”

    “But you helped Lua,” Tani interrupted, disbelief and desperation in his eyes. “You freed that madman from a worse infection.”

    “He’s fully ekho,” Sunu replied gently. “Of the fox clan.”

    Tani cursed under his breath and turned to Cale, who stood by the door as though afraid to come closer.

    “I’m sorry,” Cale murmured, guilt shimmering in his eyes when Tani gave him a pleading look.

    Tani felt tears threaten. Then he looked down at Dante, who offered him a fragile smile, despite the agony carved into every line of his face. This man—whose soul Tani had loved for a thousand years—was trying to comfort him despite the torment he endured. A burning sense of injustice flared in Tani’s chest.

    “If you won’t help me, I’ll find a way on my own,” Tani said, turning a sneer on Sunu and Kinon. Before anyone could protest, he teleported Dante away, taking him upstairs to Dante’s bed.

    “Don’t be angry with them,” Dante managed once Tani settled him against soft pillows. His voice was strained with pain. “The first time we met, you did your best to protect me, Hera, and Tom from this stuff. I was careless this time. It’s not their fault.”

    “No,” Tani breathed, staring at the black crystals crawling beneath Dante’s skin. Each movement inched them farther over his shoulder, weaving a suffocating pattern toward his heart.

    “Tani,” Dante whispered, but Tani shook his head. “You need to—”

    “I don’t want to hear any goodbyes,” Tani warned, gripping the hem of Dante’s T-shirt and helping him pull it off. His stomach twisted when he saw the parasite inching across Dante’s collarbone, turning his golden skin into a grotesque, inky scar. Dante trembled, sweat beading at his temples, and Tani worked fast, piling pillows behind him so he could sit up.

    “Baby, talk to me,” Dante urged softly, reaching for Tani with his left hand, their fingers tangling.

    “We’re going to find a way,” Tani said, taking off his sweatshirt. “I want my time on your couch, dinner with your family—nothing will steal that from us.”

    “What are you planning?”

    Tani coaxed Dante to cross his legs so they faced each other. He took Dante’s hands, clasping the injured one with his left while holding Dante’s left in his right. He looked into Dante’s eyes.

    “For so long, I’ve cowered under the weight of this calamity,” Tani confessed, tears rolling down his cheeks. “So many people saying we shouldn’t be together—others doing their best to make it true. I’m done. I’ll fix this myself.”

    “Baby,” Dante whispered, trying to pull Tani into a hug, but Tani refused to let go.

    “I want you to know,” Tani continued, “I’ve never regretted loving you. Every second I’ve spent with you has been the brightest adventure of my life. You’ve been my favorite person for a thousand years and always will be. I love you, Dante Arturo.”

    Dante leaned in and kissed him. “I love you, Tani. Always.”

    Tani broke their kiss, squeezing Dante’s hands. “Then trust me, Baby.”

    “I do,” Dante said, voice trembling, “with everything that I am.”

    Tani nodded. “You once burned away my pain with a spell. There’s no reason I can’t try the same for you. I’ve been a deviant my whole life. Might as well prove it.”

    “Tani—” Dante started to object, but Tani had already begun whispering the incantation he recalled from Dante’s attempt. Thin lines of light appeared on both their arms, running along their wrists and fingertips, binding them. Dante let out a low sigh at the impact of the bond; it felt heavier than before, forging a stronger link between them.

    They were matched, souls balancing on a golden scale. Dante met Tani’s eyes, and Tani spoke, “Acını paylaş. Yakacağım.” Share your pain. I will burn it.

    Tani expected to feel Dante’s pain, but instead, a wave of Dante’s fire magik surged into him, pouring through the conduits. Tani’s golden magik raced to meet it, flooding Dante with a brilliant light. For Tani, it felt like a thousand needles scraping through his skin. He gasped, trying to slow the flow, fixated on the black scar streaking Dante’s chest. The crystals slithered away from Tani’s magik, fleeing Dante’s arm and shoulder, converging on his chest—and Tani’s heart hammered in pure horror when they neared Dante’s heart.

    Panicked, Tani directed his magik to Dante’s heart, creating a barrier around it. Then he channeled all his strength to trap and purify the black parasite in one place. Dante screamed, the sound torn from his throat. Tani’s power seared away the kara ot, but the strain was colossal. Dante’s eyes rolled back as he fainted, his breathing turning shallow.

    “No.” Tani caught him before he slumped over. “No, no, Dante! Please!”

    He shook him gently, but Dante was fading.

    “I’m sorry,” Dante whispered at some point, his voice barely audible.

    A raw cry tore from Tani’s lips. He pulled Dante against him, cradling him fiercely. “I’m not losing you,” he vowed. “I’ve waited a thousand years for us. I won’t lose you now.”

    Tani closed his eyes and recited a spell from his homeland, one he’d learned from Amu when he was five hundred years old. The conduits along both their arms expanded over Dante’s body and Tani’s, pulsing with power. Tani felt his senses tap into the well of energy he’d always felt just beyond reach, and the force of his full potential flooded him.

    ***

    Downstairs, Cale felt the sudden shift first, then Sunu.

    “Something’s wrong,” Sunu said, racing for the stairs. Amu, Cale, Nora, and Kinon hurried behind him. Dante’s bedroom door was easy to find—the clash of magik blazed like a beacon. Sunu pushed it open, only to stop short at the threshold of Dante’s bedroom.

    On the large bed, Tani and Dante were interlaced in dense golden bands that resembled conduits. Magik poured from Tani into Dante, intense and white-hot, first soothing, then violent. Tani’s eyes snapped open, glowing white, arms locked around Dante.

    “They’re bonding using the ancient ekho rules,” Amu gasped, rushing forward, ready to yank Tani back.

    “Don’t touch him!” Sunu warned. “It’s too late to stop. We can only wait.”

    “They’ll die if Tani can’t stop the parasite or complete the process,” Amu said, horrified.

    “I know.” Sunu’s voice was low. “But interrupting this now would kill them both.”

    “What a troublesome pair,” Cale muttered from behind Sunu. Kinon lingered by the doorway, worry etched on his face.

    ****

    Tani felt himself standing in a white-hot river of energy, the essence of his power. A woman stood at the gate to that wellspring, watching him.

    “I’ll use it all,” Tani said, his voice echoing in the roar of the current.

    “It was always meant for you,” the woman replied.

    “Will it heal him?” he asked.

    “If fate wills it.”

    “Then I’ll assist fate,” Tani said, smiling widely before diving into the river without fear. The magik was in him, and he was in the magik. He opened his eyes in the real world to see the last spark of Dante’s life flickering. Seizing the full brunt of that energy, Tani sent everything he had into Dante.

    ****

    Sunu and the others were abruptly caught in a web of white light, each link winding from Tani to them, then back again, siphoning their collective power into Tani’s determined effort to heal Dante. No one could move, bound by Tani’s will to save his beloved.

    Tani drew on the ekho’s ageless reservoir, using the Septum as a bridge to navigate the roaring magik: Sunu, Kinon, Helia, Eren, Mizian, Rianon, Cale—even Sahdrina’s power flickered to life—united through Tani’s heartbreak and unwavering resolve. He purged every crystal in Dante’s body, driving out the kara ot. The bonding they had all tried to prevent was now complete, transforming an ekho-blessed mortal into a new kind of being—a hybrid fire ekho, born of Tani’s love and desperation.

    ****

    The spell finally released, leaving Sunu free to move. Tani let go of Dante and collapsed onto the bed. Before Sunu could reach him, the laws of the ekho realm snatched Tani’s spirit back to the Palladium gates, his unconscious body dissolving into raw essence.

    For the first time in a thousand years, Tani stood in the heart of the palladium gates between realms, whittled down to his truest form. The ekho realm recognized his act of sacrifice, reshaping him into something greater. When he emerged into the ekho realm, he hung in the air, arms wide, as though assimilating into his new environment. The cuffs on his wrists were gone, and power throbbed through him, bright enough to challenge the immortal lord.

    Anit, drawn by her son’s trial, arrived at the palladium gates in time to catch him when he dropped. She eased him to the ground, brushing back his red-brown hair and arranging his clothes. He was clad in the rough white robes of Sahdrina’s people.

    “Oh, Tani,” Anit breathed, sensing the boundless force rolling off him. “What happened?”

    She settled on the grass near the Palladium gates, cradling her son until Sunu emerged from the palladium gates alone. He rushed over and knelt beside them.

    “He bonded with his beloved and turned him into a hybrid fire ekho,” Sunu explained, checking Tani’s vitals. “The rules of the ekho realm must have weighed his decisions and found them justified. He has become stronger. Or maybe he was always this strong, and we didn’t know.”

    “I don’t know where we can take him,” Anit said, cradling Tani.

    “I do,” Sunu replied. He saw the flicker of alarm in her eyes and offered a reassuring look. “I won’t take him to the Citadel. Kinon helped me cleanse the Zona Forest, and we built him a home there, a place of peace, until he’s ready to face the realm.”

    Anit’s worry softened into relief.

    “What about his beloved?” Anit asked.

    “I have left him to Kinon, Cale, Amu, and Sahdrina. Kinon will guide Dante as he gets used to his new reality. And then, Dante must face the palladium gates to test his resolve; otherwise, he will not be able to enter the Ekho realm,” Sunu said. “I worried the realm’s rules would punish Tani, so I came to check on him first.”

    “I suppose the weight of the energy flowing through him is punishment enough,” Anit said, holding back a soft gasp when Tani shifted. She glanced at her son, who stirred faintly, his aura testing the air around them. “He’s so powerful now,” she whispered.

    “He’s the next immortal lord,” Sunu said, smiling fondly. Then he placed a hand on them both, transporting them.

    ****

    They arrived at a secluded, multi-tiered house hidden deep in the reborn Zona Forest. Each level was wrapped in lush greenery—climbing vines, thick ferns, and potted shrubs that lent the structure a vibrant, breathing quality. Floor-to-ceiling windows on every tier welcomed the surrounding forest and glittering sunlight, offering expansive woodland views. Strong horizontal lines, softened by flowing moss and other foliage, gave the building its distinctive silhouette, punctuated by balconies and terraces. Brimming with plant life, these outdoor spaces seemed to hover just above a tranquil pond, evoking a sense of perfect harmony with nature.

    Sunu took Tani from Anit and carried him into a room framed by tall, graceful windows overlooking a sparkling waterfall. The floors were polished stone, etched with faint runes that shimmered in the shifting light. A gentle breeze drifted through open archways, stirring the sheer drapes on the bed.

    Living vines coiled around polished wooden posts, and vibrant flowers blossomed on every windowsill. Outside, the ancient trees swayed, their leaves whispering a soft lullaby. The pond near the entrance mirrored not only the house’s curved roof and ethereal spires but also the quiet tide of magik emanating from every corner of the Zona Forest.

    Here, embraced by nature’s gentle hum, Anit and Sunu laid Tani on a bed layered with warm blankets. In this sanctuary—built with care and infused with the forest’s rejuvenating energy—Tani could find the solace he so desperately needed. As they settled him to rest, the echo of his determination lingered in the air.

    Anit and Sunu stood quietly on opposite sides of the bed, awed that Tani’s resolve had not wavered. Even a thousand years of hardship had failed to corrupt Tani’s will to protect Dante, no matter the cost.

    <<Previous | Table of Contents | Next>>

  • A Thousand Years of Hope Ch 23

    Zal charged forward, every muscle burning with the relentless determination forged from years of pain, sacrifice, and desperation. He had poured his heart, soul, and sanity into transcending the cruel limits of his bloodline, molding power from the merciless dark. He gripped his black crystal sword until his knuckles whitened, the blade humming fiercely with the corrosive fury he had so painstakingly harnessed.

    Anit stood unarmed, save for deceptively fragile vines coiled around her arm. Her serene composure only fueled the inferno in Zal’s veins. She deflected each brutal strike of his sword with grace—every parry whispering of his inadequacy, every deflection mocking his futile struggle.

    His breath came in ragged bursts as he braced himself, every inch of his body aflame. Cuts laced his arms, stinging like a thousand sparks. Yet beneath the torrent of pain, a deeper ache gnawed at his heart—the dawning realization that all his hard-won strength, years of research, and every forbidden experiment lay in shambles before Anit Izuna’s unyielding might.

    He refused to accept defeat. Not after enduring the corrosive injections of kara ot that scorched his veins black. Not after forging this very sword to channel the toxic magik he had devoted centuries to taming. He needed to prove that his lineage did not define him, that he could seize a destiny beyond his blood.

    Yet Anit stood unscathed, her single vine draped languidly around her arm. The sentinels around the room gawked at Zal with pity instead of the awe he craved. He wanted their terror, their reverence, their acknowledgment that he could claim the Fox Clan’s throne. Instead, they watched him as though he were a frenzied beast, battered by Anit’s calm, immeasurable power.

    “Don’t hold back,” she said softly, her voice laced with unsettling gentleness.

    Humiliation and fury twisted in Zal’s chest. With a ferocious cry, he lunged again, the black crystal sword crackling with dark lightning. He slashed hard, severing the vine that coiled out of her hand to meet his attacks. Chunks of dripping greenery fell, hissing against his blade’s corrosive edge. For one fraught moment, triumph flared—tangible proof that he could wound her.

    But that spark died the instant Anit unleashed her sealed aura. A tidal wave of pure, radiant magik burst from her, shaking the very walls. The severed vine pieces sprang to life at her call, morphing into even thicker, more lethal branches. Leaves unfurled like countless tiny blades, each keening for blood.

    Zal’s breath hitched in horror as the fragments at his feet disintegrated under the brilliance of her power, then re-formed into cruel, living branches. They lashed around him, absorbing the corrosive energy of his sword, their razor leaves shredding his arms and soaking his tunic with blood. It felt like a swarm of wasps was stinging every inch of his flesh, yet he pressed on, determined to complete his attack. He had sacrificed too much to falter now.

    Her power choked the air, crushing the breath from his lungs. With every step forward he managed, the vines tightened, tearing at his body and forcing him back. He staggered, consumed by desperation.

    Reality itself seemed to conspire against him, every movement a tortured struggle. He wrested one final step from the madness, sword raised—only to be slammed away by a surge of branches that hurled him over a shattered bench. Splintered wood gouged his skin, and his own body betrayed him, nerves screaming in revolt.

    He rose again, propelled by the urge to mount an all-out attack. But when he managed to get within striking distance of Anit, those vines whipped around him with merciless speed, binding him in a suffocating prison. His furious cry echoed through the domed court as they threw him back, shattering another bench beneath his weight. He collapsed again.

    Dazed and gasping, Zal tried in vain to stand. The onlookers’ murmurs brushed his ears like distant thunder. He still believed, dimly, that he could fight, but the branches coiled around his legs and torso with inexorable force, pinning his arms. His black crystal sword flickered and dimmed, its corrosive magik eclipsed by Anit’s superior power.

    Exhausted, Zal hung in the unyielding embrace of those vines. Every agonizing sacrifice, every sleepless night spent honing his body and mind, now felt pitifully small—crushed beneath the sheer magnitude of her might. Anit’s gaze, more piercing than any blade, stripped him of his last shreds of pride. His heart pounded with the choking despair of absolute defeat.

    The living wood lifted him upright before the clan’s goddess.

    Anit stepped closer, her nine tails fanned behind her in silent command, each glimmering with ancient, boundless power. In that moment, Zal realized how utterly insurmountable she was. Every wound on his body, every ounce of his will, mocked him with the truth: He would never surpass her.

    With a gentle touch, she stroked the writhing vines. They tightened around Zal’s chest, wringing out a strangled gasp. Her voice rang in the hush: “You have put up an admirable fight, Zal. I truly appreciate your efforts. But it is not your place to move me from my throne. That task”—her eyes flickered with quiet sorrow— “belongs to one far more powerful than I.”

    Her words wounded his soul and tore at every dark dream and aspiration he ever harbored. Overwhelmed by heartbreak, Zal surrendered to the unbreakable weight of Anit’s power. All he had ever sacrificed for this moment was lost, and the cold ache of futility crushed him in its iron grip. He had lost—and nothing could ever change that.

    ***

    The Inter Clan Court was in disarray: benches lay broken, and the windows’ glass had cracked beneath Anit’s power. The sentinels unable to withstand the weight of her overwhelming aura had stepped out of the court, but others continued struggling to maintain the barrier. At last, Anit drew back the intensity of her aura and sealed it, allowing her fellow clan members to breathe more easily. Closing her eyes, she let out a soft, calming breath, then motioned for the sentinels holding the barrier to drop it.

    Nela entered the court, followed by her uncle, Moon Bao, the wisest of the Bao Sentinel Branch. She stepped aside, letting him precede her into the room.

    Moon inclined his head slightly once he stood before Anit.

    “Thank you for intervening,” he said, his gaze lingering on Zal, who now knelt, held in place by Anit’s vines.

    “No need for thanks. It was my oversight, and this was long overdue,” Anit said. “Assist Anael with a new election cycle and clean up the ranks in this court. Vet everyone who worked under him. Use Lua Wadi for those who may be connected to the mortal realm. I want the Sentinel Branches to set up a checks-and-balances system, so we never face this situation again.”

    “I’ll arrange it with the other sentinel heads,” Moon said.

    Anit met his gaze. “Thank you for broaching the subject, Moon Bao. I would never have thought to look into this without your comments on Anael.”

    Meanwhile, Nela organized the Bao officers, restoring the court, casting spells over the broken benches to repair them, and healing the windows’ shattered glass. Sentinel officers from the other branches filed back into the room while the Bao officers managed the chaos.

    The lead judge cleared his throat, catching Anit’s attention. Five judges had returned to the bench.

    “Zal Izuna, Tara of the Anael Sentinel, stand and hear your sentence. By unanimous decision, you are found guilty of violating clan laws, unlawfully maintaining leadership, harming an heir apparent, and sowing strife in the mortal realm. You shall be stripped of your positions and confined, pending further inquiry into your associates—including Lua Wadi and any who aided your crimes.”

    At the lead judge’s sharp gesture, the Bao Sentinels stepped forward to arrest Tara. Glow-woven restraints looped around her wrists, neutralizing her powers. Tara let out a choked sob. Zal did not look up as the sentinels lifted him to his feet and paused before Anit.

    Anit’s stare raked over Zal. “You will answer for every year Tani spent in pain, for every life shattered in the ekho realm because of your schemes. The Sentinel Branches shall share your misdeeds throughout the clan, ensuring no one repeats your mistakes.” She lifted her chin. “Lady Nela, I place their confinement in your Bao Sentinels’ care.”

    Nela inclined her head. “Yes, Lady Izuna. We will see that justice is served.”

    Zal was led away by Moon Bao and his troop of sentinels, forced to pass clusters of ekho who refused to meet his eyes. Tara followed, her composure in tatters.

    As the two conspirators disappeared behind the court doors, tension ebbed in a wave of chatter. Nela Bao thanked the judges as they left the room, gathering her scrolls and evidence with the help of her assistants. Many approached her with questions, but she deftly answered only what protocol allowed.

    Anit flexed her left arm, relieved that the numbness from her wound had faded. She surveyed the bustling hall, the swirl of relief and condemnation chafing at her. Justice, she knew, was only the first step. Zal’s sentencing could not erase centuries of wrongs. Nor could it restore Tani’s lost innocence. She thought of Tani in the mortal realm, torn between love and immortality, burdened by the Septum’s trial and those cursed cuffs on his wrists.

    Guilt twisted inside her: she should have been at his side.

    With one last lingering glance at the spot where Zal had knelt, Anit sighed. No one else will separate me from my son.

    Her eyes burned with tears she refused to shed in public. She would visit Tani in the mortal realm soon to see whether he had won his beloved’s heart. But for now, at least, Zal’s hidden manipulations lay exposed before the entire Inter Clan Court. And that, she told herself, was a beginning.

    She blinked, realizing she now owed Cale a debt. How strange it was to be in the god of calamity’s debt. Shaking her head, she left the court with a shimmer, making her way to the log house.

    ****

    On Saturday, two days after Sunu arrived at Elderwood, Tani woke up early to make breakfast for the household. He took care not to disturb Dante, wanting him to sleep in. It felt good having his beloved in his bed; Tani had spent more than a few minutes just watching Dante sleep. He smiled at the memory of scratching Dante’s beard before leaving their bed.

    In the kitchen, Tani retrieved Turkish sausages from the fridge, along with storage containers with feta cheese and cottage cheese, plus a jar of the sour cherry jam Hera loved canning for Deniz. He placed his loot on the counter and moved to the vegetable rack to gather cucumbers, tomatoes, and a large watermelon. He was rinsing the vegetables at the sink when Hera shuffled into the kitchen, her braids loose around her shoulders. She wore a long white T-shirt and bunny slippers.

    “Morning, sleepyhead,” Tani greeted when she detoured to hug him. He kissed her forehead and smiled as she perched on a chair at the island table.

    “Why are you up so early?” Hera asked. “I was sure with Dante here you’d sleep in.”

    “I wanted to make him a good breakfast spread,” Tani said. “It’s Saturday. Let’s have a wonderful one.”

    “Let’s,” Hera said with a nod, then propped her chin on her right hand. “Babu, you look so happy. It’s amazing to witness. I don’t think I’ve seen you smile as much as you do when Dante is around.”

    Tani smiled and turned off the water. He placed the cucumbers and tomatoes in a bowl. Taking a knife from the rack, he brought the bowl to Hera.

    “He makes me happy,” Tani said. “Slice these. Don’t forget to make the cucumber slices thin. Deniz hates it when they’re too thick.”

    Hera got up to rinse her hands and patted them dry with a paper towel, tossing it into the trash bin before returning to her seat. “Will he move in?” she asked as she accepted the cutting board Tani handed her.

    Tani frowned, remembering Dante’s invitation for him to call Artri House his home.

    “What would you say if I told you I might move in with him?” Tani asked, moving the watermelon aside on the sink counter. He would cut it last. He retrieved oranges from the fruit rack and brought them to the sink, glancing at Hera, who kept quiet.

    “Would that mean we wouldn’t see you often?” Hera asked. “Would you disappear the way you do when none of us can reach you for months?”

    “No,” Tani said, shaking his head. “If I move out, it’ll be to Dante’s family home at the Arturo Vineyard. You know where that is. You can bring Deniz to visit. She can explore the vineyard and play in the olive grove. Dante wouldn’t object. We’d still visit here often. The conservancy continues—even with you and Tom running it, I’d help whenever you needed me. I wouldn’t just vanish.”

    “It sounds like a wonderful plan,” Dante said as he entered the kitchen, making Hera and Tani turn to look at him.

    He looked delicious in white lounge pants and a matching long-sleeved T-shirt. His figure was perfection—hard in all the right places. Remembering how it felt to be wrapped around him, Tani exhaled softly and met Dante’s knowing brown gaze. His heart skipped violently with joy. Dante’s hair was loose around his shoulders. How could a man look so good first thing in the morning?

    Hera cleared her throat, and Tani turned back to the sink.

    “Morning, Hera,” Dante said, giving her a one-armed hug. “Are we having cucumbers and tomatoes for breakfast?”

    “Morning,” Hera said. “Breakfast is Babu’s show today. I’m just following instructions. But I see sausages and cheese on the counter, so there’ll be a nice spread.”

    “Good, because I’m starving,” Dante said, coming around the table to where Tani stood by the sink. He put an arm around Tani and kissed his cheek. “Morning, baby. You left me in bed. I woke up looking for you.”

    Tani smiled as Dante leaned in to kiss his lips. “I wanted to let you sleep in. It’s Saturday, after all. Hera and I decided today should be laid-back.”

    “Laid-back sounds good,” Dante said. “Should I start the tea?”

    “Mm.” Tani smiled when Dante squeezed in beside him to wash his hands, stealing another kiss before moving to the cooking range to set up the tea.

    Tani placed the wet oranges in a bowl, then turned to Hera at the island. He paused, noticing she was staring at him with a wide smile.

    “What?” Tani asked, retrieving another cutting board and knife after placing the oranges on the table.

    “Nothing. I support your choice to move in with him,” Hera said, concentrating on slicing cucumbers. “Do I get free wine, Dante? Deniz and I will be visiting you often at the vineyard.”

    Tani glanced at Dante, who winked at him.

    “I’ll even show you how to decant wine,” Dante said.

    “Wow, that sounds interesting,” Hera said. “I’ve always wondered how wine goes from barrel to bottle. I’d love to learn more.”

    “Mom will be excited to have someone interested in the process,” Dante said. “I spent too much time chasing digs in ancient places and only half-listened when she taught me. She’ll be happy to have someone truly interested in the art.”

    Tani worked in comfortable silence, listening to Hera and Dante discuss winemaking, the vineyard, and Nora’s exploits in the business. He sliced oranges and arranged them on a platter, then got a second platter ready for Hera’s sliced cucumbers and tomatoes. Dante tended to the tea, and when the first batch was ready, he poured three glasses for Hera, Tani, and himself. They paused to sip between tasks.

    Hera sliced the feta cheese while Tani divided the cottage cheese into separate containers to place around the dining table.

    “Nora has an appointment on Monday with the conservancy,” Hera said at one point. “Artri House is now included in the roster of the ekho-blessed, and she’s willing to share her knowledge with anyone struggling. I invited her to discuss possible outreach projects. Do you think she’d be open to joining them?”

    “Oh, she’d love it,” Dante said. “Mom likes feeling included, and she’s happiest when she’s helping.”

    “Fantastic,” Hera said. “I love the book she gave me. It’s helped guide Deniz’s gifts. I can’t wait to learn more.”

    “Learn more of what?” Tom asked as he entered the kitchen. He wore shorts, a T-shirt, and sandals, clearly ready for a relaxed day. “Morning, everyone.”

    “Morning,” Dante and Hera chorused.

    “Babu, you’re making breakfast?” Tom asked, accepting a glass of tea from Dante.

    “Hm,” Tani answered.

    Tom sipped his tea and nodded to the sausages. “I can help with those.”

    “Okay,” Tani said with a smile, watching Tom gather the grilling pan, tongs, and a platter for the sausages.

    “Hera, what are you learning?” Tom asked as he turned on the burner.

    “How to guide ekho-blessed children from Nora Arturo,” Hera said, finishing with the feta cheese. She arranged the feta cheese cubes in three different bowls and got up. Taking eight plates from the cupboard, she started setting the dining table. “Tom, when are you bringing your girlfriend to meet the family? You can’t keep putting it off. I thought you promised Babu you’d have ten children with her.”

    “Ten!” Dante gaped, moving to help Tani rinse grapes and olives in the sink. “Tom King, won’t she run away if she hears you want ten kids?”

    “She doesn’t know I want ten,” Tom said with a smirk, sipping his tea. “Babu, I’d like to bring her when you’re around, so give me a day, and I’ll make it happen.”

    “I think we should have Uncle Amu here, too,” Tani said. “Let’s ask him for a good day during breakfast.”

    “Okay,” Tom said, then winked. “Babu, one of your lawyers is sweet on Hera. What do you think?”

    “What?” Tani glanced at Hera, who shook her head in exasperation.

    “Don’t listen to him,” Hera said. “My heel broke in the courtyard when I was talking to the restoration crew. He helped me back to my office and wrapped my ankle when it felt sprained. Tom’s convinced that means he’s smitten.”

    “Which one?” Tani asked, abandoning the grapes for a moment.

    “Vidar Badem,” Tom said as he opened the sausage package.

    “Ah.” Tani smiled and leaned against the sink counter with a satisfied nod.

    “Wipe that smile off your face, Babu,” Hera said, grabbing cutlery from a drawer.

    “He’s a good man,” Tani said. “Hardworking. He built his firm in an honest way. He’s loyal to his friends and kind to his colleagues. He lost his mother two years ago, but he took excellent care of her. He’s a great catch.”

    “I don’t see it happening,” Hera said. “You’re all forgetting my darling Deniz.”

    “How could we?” Tom asked, giving her a mock-horrified look. “Vidar would treat her right, unlike Hakan.”

    Hera sighed. “Dante, stop them.”

    Dante chuckled and leaned over to kiss Tani’s right cheek. “Baby, you can’t decide for Vidar and Hera. They’ll have to meet more often and choose for themselves.”

    “See? Even Dante agrees,” Tom said with satisfaction.

    “I’m not listening,” Hera laughed, placing cutlery around the table. “This mom is focusing on raising her daughter for now. Romance can wait.”

    “I support you, Hera,” Dante said, smiling when Tani looked at him with a raised brow. “Hera’s your ward. I’ll help you beat up this guy if he does her wrong. I’m just trying to save him early.”

    Tani chuckled. “Maybe I should bring you along to deal with Hakan.” He turned back to rinse olives while Dante finished with the grapes. “Hera, I support all your choices. It’s also okay to try finding love again. You deserve it.”

    “Okay,” Hera said softly.

    A comfortable quiet settled until Deniz’s excited squeal rang from the corridor. They all turned to see Sunu entering with Deniz in his arms and Amu walking in behind them.

    “Good morning,” Deniz said in a singsong voice.

    “Morning,” everyone replied.

    “I can take her,” Hera said, hurrying to Sunu’s side.

    “Don’t worry. I don’t mind,” Sunu said with a gentle smile. He looked especially relaxed, dressed in a white tunic shirt and comfortable trousers, his feet in sandals. Deniz was still in her pink Barbie pajamas and socks, her left arm hooked over Sunu’s shoulder as she played with the medallion on his chest.

    Hera glanced at Tani for guidance, and Tani gave her an encouraging nod.

    “We’re doing fine together,” Sunu continued. “Deniz was just telling me she loves riding horses and swinging as high as possible on the playground. Right, Deniz?”

    “Very high,” Deniz said seriously. “I have a secret for you.” She leaned in to whisper in his ear. “Uncle Cale makes sure I don’t fall. He’s very careful.”

    “What a marvel,” Sunu said, moving to sit at the dining table, where Hera pulled out a chair for him. He settled Deniz on his knee and listened attentively to all her morning secrets.

    “He’s very good with children,” Amu said, catching Tani’s attention. “At the citadel, they run to him, offering him flower crowns that he wears all day.”

    Tani found himself wondering if he had ever sat on Sunu’s knee. He couldn’t remember. Somehow, the memories of his time at the citadel had faded.

    “Let’s have breakfast,” Amu said, snapping Tani out of his thoughts. “What can I help with?”

    “Could you put the sour cherry jam into smaller bowls, and the honey too?” Hera said. “I’ll get the Turkish bagels. I picked up the ones with extra sesame seeds yesterday because Dante seems to love those.”

    “Thank you, Hera,” Dante said, placing the grapes on a large platter.

    Babu, call Cale. It’s almost time to eat,” Hera said.

    Tani nodded. ‘Cale,’ he called in his mind as he started scrambling eggs at the cooking range next to Tom.

    Cale arrived just as the kitchen buzzed with activity. Impeccably dressed in a neat gray suit, he slipped off his jacket and laid it on the chair nearest Sunu and Deniz, then helped serve the many platters of food.

    They all worked in a flurry to set the dining table with a hearty spread. Soon, everyone was seated, and tea glasses were passed down to everyone, and chocolate milk in a cup for Deniz, who sat between Sunu and Cale.

    Tani settled back in his chair, watching his family enjoy a leisurely breakfast. Beyond a moment of awkwardness when Sunu first arrived, Deniz’s animated conversation swept all barriers aside. The table buzzed with talk of Dante’s digs across Europe, Tom’s research on conservation, Cale’s love of bespoke suits, Hera’s curiosity about winemaking, and Amu’s fascination with obscure crystals. Tani loved every minute, every second. His eyes shone with warmth as he looked up to find Sunu watching him.

    Your chosen family is beautiful,’ Sunu’s voice whispered in Tani’s mind, the words soothing. ‘I’m glad I came to be here with you.

    Tani held his father’s gaze for a moment, then nodded in acknowledgment. A small part of him was happy to show off his family to his father. He had not known he needed to. To have Sunu sit among these people who Tani loved was perfect.

    Tani held his father’s gaze for a moment, then nodded. A small part of him felt proud to share this family with his father. He hadn’t realized how much he wanted Sunu’s presence here until now.

    Sunu lifted his tea glass in a silent toast and sipped, smiling happily. Then he turned to Deniz, who was offering him a grape on a fork, and took a playful bite with a chuckle.

    “Your dad looks happy to be here,” Dante murmured into Tani’s right ear.

    “Mm,” Tani said, accepting a slice of feta cheese Dante fed him. “What do you want to do today?”

    “Nothing. Just be with you,” Dante said, his gaze thoughtful. “We could swing by Artri House and have another date on my favorite couch. I want to make memories with you there.”

    “It’s a date,” Tani said, grinning. “We could even have dinner with your parents.”

    “I’ll call Mom and tell her,” Dante said, feeding Tani a piece of sausage. “Eat more.”

    “Don’t just feed me,” Tani teased, pointing to Dante’s plate. “You need to eat too.”

    “Ugh, all this sweetness between at your end of the table is giving me a toothache,” Cale said, making Tani scowl at him while Dante laughed.

    Tani kissed Dante’s cheek, then shot Cale a mock-serious look. “So, how are those teeth? Any cavities?”

    They all burst out laughing. Tani squeezed Dante’s arm, exhilarated to be so happy.

    ****

    Nora was busy trimming the damaged vines where Cale and Kinon had apprehended Aero. It was midmorning, and the sun was coming up fast. She adjusted the brim of her wide sisal hat and crouched to study the soil.

    “It’s not as damaged as you think,” a gentle voice said, making her look up in surprise. She blinked when she saw Kinon standing a few feet away. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. I was with Cale in the ekho realm, but he left me abruptly, so I decided to visit the mortal realm. I brought your charmed pens. I took them back from Aero. I placed them in your workroom near the grimoire. On my way out, I decided to check on the vines.”

    “Oh,” Nora said, straightening up, holding her clippers tight. She tried to find the right words to respond to Kinon but found none. “Um.”

    “I grow grapes too,” Kinon said, moving closer. He took the clippers from her and examined the vines she had been working on. “You’ve done a good job removing the worst damaged branches. Here, let me help encourage new shoots.”

    Nora fought back her nerves and concentrated on learning from the ekho god of fire. Kinon was generous with his knowledge, patiently answering her questions about the soil and her concerns about parasites. They worked side by side for two hours, methodically tending to the rows of grapevines.

    “The kara ot Aero tried to root into your soil never took,” Kinon said after a time, touching the loose earth. He sank his fingers into the soil, and Nora sensed a surge of power radiating through the roots. “The soil is very healthy, likely because Lord Tani blessed your vineyard. I’ll restore what was disturbed so it all looks the same.”

    “That’s a relief,” Nora said with a soft sigh. She had chosen to handle the damage alone, giving her staff two days off. Only the vintner had stayed behind, absorbed in his duties.

    “All done,” Kinon said a few minutes later. He stood to his full height, his hands perfectly clean despite plunging them into the dirt. “Fire purifies.”

    “Oh,” Nora said again, and, satisfied with the state of the vines, she motioned toward Artri House. “Would you like a glass of tea?”

    “Yes, please,” Kinon said.

    Nora studied him a moment longer, then turned to lead the way out of the row. She glanced at him often as they walked along the path leading to the house.

    “It feels like you have a lot of questions for me,” Kinon said, his tone as calm as ever. “You can ask anything.”

    “Will you answer?”

    “All that I can,” Kinon said. “Now that you know about Lord Tani, and after one of our own plotted against your kin, there’s nothing left to hide from you.”

    “Why does Lord Cale follow Tani?” Nora asked. “The god of calamities doesn’t sound very…auspicious.”

    “He isn’t, but neither is he cruel,” Kinon replied. “Cale is the Immortal Lord Sunu’s blood brother—darkness to the Immortal Lord’s light. He carries the burden of calamities. He doesn’t corrupt souls; they corrupt themselves, and he revels in what they become.”

    “No matter how you explain it, it still sounds ominous,” Nora said, sighing.

    Kinon chuckled. “I suppose it does. But Cale will be the one to keep Aero in check.”

    “That’s some consolation,” Nora said, nodding as they approached the house. “Lord Kinon, something is weighing on me. It’s about my son, and I’m afraid to ask him directly. Will you listen?”

    “I’ll do my best,” Kinon said.

    “Well, Dante is my only child,” Nora began. “He’s in love with an ekho, someone who belongs to a realm beyond human limits, while my son is…well, he’s human. Even with his powers as a warlock, Dante will still age and die. What happens to Tani then? I want to support their union, but the thought of Tani being left behind haunts me. Isn’t their love doomed to end in sadness?”

    Kinon took a deep breath. “You are indeed the Arturo matriarch, diving straight to the heart of matters,” he said quietly.

    They walked in silence for a while before Kinon stopped and turned to face her.

    “Your question is precisely why the Septum punished Tani,” Kinon said. “He insisted that the love between him and Dante would be equal, that it would endure every trial. However, their limitations are rooted in their very existence. Tani refuses to see beyond his passion, and his devotion to Dante has become both inspiring and worrying. In truth, only fate holds the answer. Perhaps Tani is destined to mourn Dante for the rest of his life, and perhaps Dante was always meant to give Tani a fleeting taste of mortal love.”

    Tears filled Nora’s eyes, and she turned away. “So, who should I pity?” she whispered. “My son, who will condemn an ekho to mourn him for all eternity, or Tani, who is so blinded by love that he dares bind himself to my son, a human?”

    Kinon’s eyes brimmed with tears as he listened to her grief. When she glanced at him, her tears spilled over.

    “It would be a mercy to the entire Septum if we had a sure answer,” Kinon said, his voice thick with emotion. “We’ve all wondered what should be done.”

    Nora wiped her tears with trembling fingers. In her mind’s eye, she pictured Tani living on, remembering his and Dante’s passionate but short-lived love, while watching over Dante’s children and grandchildren long after Dante was gone.

    The thought felt unbearably cruel. Sorrow filled her heart at the fleeting existence of a human life. Compared to an ekho, well, weren’t mortals too cruel to these creatures who lived on watching them in the shadows?

    Shaking her head, Nora grasped Kinon’s left arm and led him toward the house. “I suppose it’s already decided,” she said. “I could hardly believe how excited Dante sounded when he called me this morning, wanting to invite the family to dinner. He sounded so happy, and I’m so glad he feels the warmth of love. You’re Dante’s grand ancestor. I ask you to look after Tani—treat him like an Arturo in the future. Please, accompany him when Dante leaves him behind. Promise me.”

    Kinon hesitated, then gave a solemn nod. “I promise.”

    “Thank you,” Nora said, exhaling. “We look after our own. You know that, right?”

    “I do,” Kinon said softly.

    Nora nodded again. “I feel better knowing that. I made baklava yesterday. Let’s have some with tea, just until I can prepare a proper lunch. I hope you’ll like it.”

    “I’m sure I will,” Kinon said, following Nora up the front steps to Artri House. The door opened for them, and Nora laughed at her home’s eagerness to welcome Kinon.

    “What do you think Tani likes to eat?” she asked as she led him into the kitchen.

    “We’ll have to ask Cale,” Kinon replied. When Nora shuddered at the thought, he amended, “Don’t worry, I’ll do it.”

    “Thank you,” Nora said, gesturing for him to sit at the kitchen table. “It’ll take me time to accept Lord Cale. Will that offend Tani?”

    “No,” Kinon said, pulling in his chair. “Cale scares most people who don’t know him.”

    It was nearly half past noon.

    Before they could speak further, a sharp crash echoed from the front hall, and the entire house shuddered as though seized by an earthquake.

    “What now?” Nora demanded, hurrying out of the kitchen. Kinon followed close behind, and they both stopped short at the front hall in horror.

    Dante stood by the table near the front door, arms flung out to hold the sizeable ornamental vase that had toppled off its perch. He had managed to grab it, but the vase had begun to crumble in his hands. Splinter-like cracks spread across its surface, and in a terrifying instant, black crystal fragments erupted from within, latching onto Dante’s right arm.

    A low, resonant groan seemed to ripple through the house as the shards crept up his sleeve and sank into his flesh with alarming speed.

    Dante gasped, eyes wide with pain. Tani desperately tried to wrench Dante’s hand from the collapsing vase, but the dark fragments clung to Dante’s skin, burrowing deeper.

    Nora screamed when Dante staggered, his knees buckling as a violent tremor shook the house. Tani clutched at him, tears of panic on his face, one arm thrown around Dante’s shoulders in a desperate bid to keep him upright.

    “Dante,” Tani sobbed, his voice trembling.

    Dante’s strength gave out, and he collapsed to the floor, the vase disintegrating into glittering black dust around him. Tani followed him down, resting Dante’s head on his lap as he gripped Dante’s right arm tight, determined to stop the black crystals from doing more damage. The house rumbled in sympathy, the walls rattling as though shuddering at Dante’s agony.

    Nora stood frozen for an instant before she darted to Dante’s side. Tani pushed the sleeves of Dante’s t-shirt up, ripping at the fabric to get a better look. The sight of the inky shards creeping beneath her son’s skin stole the air from her lungs. She could only call his name in a voice filled with dread while Tani fought to hold back the dark fragments spreading along Dante’s right arm. Kinon rushed over, helping Tani when Dante started shaking as hard as the house.

    Nora’s heart pounded with crippling fear, terrified for her son’s life.

    <<Previous | Table of Contents | Next>>

  • A Thousand Years of Hope Ch 21

    Chapter Twenty-One

    Tani frowned at his elder bushes. He was beginning to realize the futility of trying to keep them trimmed, given the numerous ekho creatures that visited his home. With a scoff, he turned around and found Sunu—his father—standing in the middle of the library, staring up at the mural on the ceiling.

    “Cale’s painting skills have improved,” Sunu said. “He has quite the memory; this mural is remarkably accurate.”

    “He restored it a few weeks ago,” Amu said, coming closer to admire the mural. “May I ask what brings the Immortal Lord to our humble home?”

    “Cale called me on an errand,” Sunu answered, clasping his hands behind his back. He offered Amu a polite smile. “When it was finished, I decided to follow Tani home. I’ve never been here, although Anit has visited so often. I thought I should see it, too.”

    Amu glanced at Tani, who still stood by the windows. Nearby, Dante glared at Sunu as though he wanted to challenge him outright. Amu tried to catch Dante’s eye, but Dante was too focused on Sunu.

    “Looks like I’ve attracted someone’s ire,” Sunu noted with a small smile as he met Dante’s hostile stare. “Child, your fire is barely contained. Fortunately, I’m one of the few people on whom you can unleash it without consequence.”

    “Don’t think he can’t burn you,” Tani said, scowling at Sunu. “If you’re feeling energetic, do something about the elder bushes.”

    Sighing, Sunu let out a gentle pulse of power. The unruly elder bushes stopped overgrowing and settled.

    “No one will remember,” Sunu murmured.

    Tani gave a resigned sigh at his father’s effortless display of power. The distance between them felt even more painful now that they were face to face. He watched Sunu and felt a hollow ache in his chest. Even though Dante was angry on his behalf, Tani couldn’t ignore the yearning to have a closer relationship with his father. It pulsed under his skin, accompanied by a thousand questions about his lineage, his powers, and what it meant to be part of the fox clan—and the son of the Immortal Lord.

    “May I have a moment to speak with Tani?” Sunu asked Amu and Dante.

    Tani wanted to protest, but when he looked at Dante, he saw only encouragement. Crossing the room, Tani allowed Dante to pull him into a brief hug.

    “You’ve had a difficult few hours,” Tani murmured, kissing Dante’s cheek. “Go rest.”

    Dante shifted and pressed his lips to Tani’s in a lingering kiss.

    “I’ll be upstairs if you need me,” he said. “Just call, and I’ll come.”

    “Mm,” Tani replied with a nod.

    Amu left first, followed by Dante, who shot Sunu an unfriendly glance on his way out.

    With a soft chuckle, Sunu walked to an armchair and sat down.

    “Your beloved seems to have a low opinion of me,” he remarked. “What have you told him, Sweet Tani?”

    “Nothing,” Tani said, taking a seat opposite his father. “There isn’t much to tell. I barely know you.”

    Sunu’s smile wavered for a moment. “That’s my fault, though it doesn’t mean I don’t care for you. You are my son—my flesh and blood. Everything about you matters to me.”

    Tani thought of how Dante struggled to be present for his children, no matter the secrets or distance between them. He knew Dante felt burdened by the distance he needed to keep between him and his children. After their run-in with Lua Wadi, Tani could understand Dante’s struggles. He suddenly wondered what burdens Sunu faced.

    After all these centuries, Tani still found it unsettling that he knew so little about Sunu.

    “Are you the reason Uncle Cale always answers when I call?” Tani asked. “Is that why you made him my warden—so he could track me because we share your blood?”

    Sunu gave a small nod. “You’re a clever ekho. The Septum exists to balance power in the immortal lands. Without laws and guidelines, Siorai would collapse under the pressure of so many powerful beings. Our traditions have sometimes helped us and sometimes hindered us. History will likely remember my reign as the era when the Septum’s head imprisoned his successor simply for falling in love with a mortal. It’s humiliating.”

    Tani bit his bottom lip. “I feel no attachment to the ekho realm. I left it when I was too young. Maybe that was the grand design all along.”

    “Perhaps,” Sunu allowed. “Before you were born, Cale sensed you would experience a period of calamity. Anit and I tried to protect you, but we never imagined your calamity would revolve around forbidden love. Even with all my resources, I couldn’t stop it. The best I could do was assign Cale as your guardian.”

    Tani’s eyes widened. “Are you saying the God of Calamity predicted a thousand-year misfortune for me?”

    “Exactly,” Sunu said. “When you were born, I clung to hope that he might be mistaken and kept you with me for your first five hundred years. But then the fox clan began a disruptive movement, claiming the clan would collapse without its goddess—your mother—at the helm. Tensions rose so high that the dragon clan threatened to invade Gralia. Anit had no choice but to return home and stabilize her realm. She took you with her.”

    Sunu leaned his head back, gazing at the mural overhead. “The day I watched her leave our citadel, I realized I couldn’t avert your calamity through sheer willpower. I had to let your life unfold and hope that, at the end of all your trials, you’d still grant your parents a chance.”

    Tani stared at his father, his heart pounding with indescribable emotion. He barely understood his parents, and the chasm between them felt impossible to bridge.

    “Our family was broken from the start,” Tani said with a short, bitter laugh. “If you foresaw all this pain, why did you have me at all? Why allow me to exist if you knew I’d suffer so much?”

    Sunu’s amber eyes shone with quiet sincerity. “Because you are a precious gift given to us by fate. I’ll never regret your existence, Tani Ryuzo. You are Anit’s son, and you are my son. We love you—albeit imperfectly. I’m sorry I had to step away when you needed me most. I’m sorry I couldn’t for not being able to take away the pain you have endured. I love you, son. I only hope you can forgive us one day and give us a chance to be your family.”

    Tears filled Tani’s eyes at the regret in Sunu’s voice. He turned away, hastily swiping at his tears with the back of his hand. His throat felt tight, and it took him a moment to speak.

    “What do I have to do to get these cuffs off my wrists?” Tani asked softly. “Dante made his choice, and the cuffs remain in place. They won’t come off, even though my powers are unsealed.”

    Sunu glanced at Tani’s wrists, at the thin gold elder leaf bracelets he wore, and gave a thoughtful nod. “Dante is mortal. The weight of your past affects the weight of his promise.”

    “But—” Tani began.

    “I’m not saying the cuffs will never come off,” Sunu said with a gentle smile. “I’m only saying it may take longer than a few days. Soul matters aren’t like water pouring from a bucket in one rush. You and Dante share a long, perilous fate. You have to survive what’s coming before you can reach the other side.”

    Tani gripped the arms of his chair. “What does that even mean?”

    “You’re bonded to a mortal,” Sunu said. “Your life is long; his is not. Kinon has intervened to give Dante a fighting chance, so I can’t predict how things will turn out for him. But I do know that eventually, he’ll have to face the Palladium Gates to weigh his choice. The cuffs might be waiting for that.”

    Tani’s heart clenched. The Palladium Gates never allowed mortal souls through; only those with partial ekho blood could attempt it, and even then, it required colossal power. It was why Selene remained in the mortal realm—she couldn’t pass the test of the gates, while her brother had made it through.

    “Do you think Dante can make it?” Tani whispered.

    “He has Kinon’s lineage, so his fire is strong,” Sunu said. “In the end, his resolve will decide.”

    Tani exhaled. “Then if he can’t, I’ll stay here.”

    “For how long?” Sunu asked, meeting Tani’s gaze. “Mortals don’t live under the same measure of time we do. Unless Dante passes through those gates, he can’t cross the tides of time with you. You’ll have to face that truth.”

    Tani looked down at his hands, resting on the chair’s arms. Time was indeed the true master of the mortal realm—and a formidable enemy for an immortal being. An enemy as old as all the realms.

    “Tani.”

    He glanced up.

    “Whatever comes,” Sunu said quietly, “I’ll stand by your side, as will Cale, your mother Anit, and your uncle Amu. No matter what trials await, we’ll face them with you.”

    A surge of conflicting emotions brought tears to Tani’s eyes again, and all he could do was nod. He hoped he’d be strong enough to endure whatever lay ahead.

    After a moment, Tani stood. Sunu reached out a hand as though to stop him.

    “May I stay a few days?” Sunu asked. His voice was gentle, as though he feared rejection. “I’d like some time in your world.”

    Tani hesitated, conscious of the awkwardness between them. This was the first time he’d truly spoken to Sunu as a father, not just as the Immortal Lord. At last, he shrugged.

    “Everyone here is equal. You’ll eat the same food we make and treat Tom, Hera, and Deniz with respect. No one will accommodate you just because you’re from the Septum.”

    Sunu offered him a genuine smile. “I understand.”

    “Good,” Tani said. “There’s a free suite next to Uncle Amu’s. You can stay there. I’m going to find Dante.”

    Turning to leave, Tani paused at the door. He caught a glimpse of Sunu’s delighted expression before he shut it behind him. Despite his conflicted heart, Tani couldn’t deny that for the first time in centuries, the distance between them felt just a bit smaller.

    ****

    Anit watched Zal and his minions prepare for the next case, Cale’s warning still lingering in her mind. It left a bitter taste on her tongue. She wanted to follow Cale to discover why Tani had summoned him to the mortal realm, but she could not leave the court until it was formally adjourned. Suddenly, the demands of civility felt stifling.

    Her gaze shifted to the five judges listening to a dispute between two neighbors. One neighbor’s young daughter had activated a vine spell in their backyard, causing the vines to grow wildly and spill into the other yard, nearly suffocating a woman who happened to be there at the time. The girl was eight and contrite. Anit knew the judges would likely order training for the child since she showed a great affinity for magik.

    “Nela,” Anit called to the strongest of the Bao. She used a concealment spell before Nela shimmered into the court and stood by the chair Cale would have occupied.

    “Lady Izuna,” Nela said.

    “Nela, can you tell me what case the Anael branch is presenting?” Anit asked.

    “The Bao Sentinels mentioned Shugo Hosa’s disappearance in our last all-sentinel meeting,” Nela said. “He’s a candidate in the Anael leadership election, and we keep track of all such elections to ensure fairness. His disappearance has everyone on edge. As my grandfather mentioned, the Bao have been concerned about Zal’s continued leadership in Anael. Zal and his assistant, Tara, have held their positions for too long. It’s safe to assume they’re here to present evidence related to Shugo’s absence.”

    “Has Bao searched for Shugo?” Anit asked.

    “We have,” Nela replied. “There’s no trace of him in Gralia. Most of our elite teams have searched, but we haven’t found anything.”

    Anit exhaled and straightened in her chair.

    “Summon all the Sentinel houses,” she said. “I want an audit of the Anael Sentinel Branch. Any cases they’re working on are now on hold, and any plans made with the Anael Sentinel Branch are canceled. By the end of this session, we’ll convene a council.”

    “I’ll arrange it,” Nela said, leaving the court to prepare.

    Anit gripped the arms of her chair as the presiding judge read the decision for the girl who had unleashed the vines.

    “Raven Verda shall report to the Gralia Academy of Acolytes in three days. The court will monitor her attendance. We hope her time at the academy helps her better understand her abilities.”

    Raven’s parents thanked the court and apologized to their neighbors. They left with mixed emotions. Anit hoped the girl would learn to balance her power as she continued her training.

    “Next case,” the court manager announced. “The Anael Sentinel Branch will present evidence to prove one of their members is missing. Shugo Hosa has not been seen for two moon cycles. The Anael Sentinel will provide more information on his whereabouts.”

    “Sentinel business,” Anit said with a smirk, catching Zal’s eye. “I invoke the council.”

    “The Fox Goddess has invoked the council,” the court manager intoned. “The court shall empty of citizens. All Sentinel heads and members shall appear in court within the hour. May I ask, Lady Izuna, what the topic is?”

    “The Anael Sentinel Branch elections and whatever else Nela Bao decides,” Anit declared, smiling when she saw Zal’s supporters grow anxious. “I can’t wait to hear what has been happening.”

    ****

    Dante followed Amu into the living room after leaving Tani, but he couldn’t stop frowning at the thought of Tani facing a father he hadn’t seen in so long.

    “Don’t worry,” Amu said, as though reading his mind. “For all his faults, Sunu loves Tani very much. He won’t do anything to upset him.”

    “How do you know?” Dante asked, moving to the window to stare into the afternoon sunlight. He could hardly believe that he and Tani had just been in Kirtland. At least he’d managed to see Zach and April, however briefly—it was enough to ease some lingering concerns.

    “What happened with your son, Zach?” Amu asked, gently changing the subject.

    Dante turned to face him. Amu was like a father to Tani, so Dante supposed he might think of him now as a father-in-law. That idea brought a flicker of cheer to his expression.

    Amu sank into an armchair, and Dante took the seat across from him.

    “Tani took us to Kirtland,” Dante explained. “It was nighttime there, and when we found the camp where the kids had gone, we found the search-and-rescue team already at work. Tani tracked Zach using a protective spell I’d placed on him. We found Zach asleep in an old gazebo under a green blanket. He was with a man named Lua Wadi, who wanted to use Zach and me to force Tani to call Cale—the god of calamity.”

    Dante shook his head. “Does every ekho know about Tani’s calamity and Cale’s involvement?”

    “It’s hard to hide,” Amu said with a rueful smile. “Tani is Anit and Sunu’s son. Ideally, he’d live in Gralia’s log house in Yesserin Mountain or at the Citadel with his father, completing rites of passage like anyone else. Instead, he’s here in the mortal realm.”

    Dante nodded. “I think his parents miss him,” he said quietly.

    “I’m sure they do,” Amu replied. “That’s why Anit visits and leaves all those strange gifts.”

    Dante’s gaze settled on the fox carving in the middle of the room. When Tani was here, the statue had been upright and alert. Now it lay curled up as if sleeping. He smiled at the peculiarity, then looked back at Amu.

    “Did Lua get what he wanted?” Amu asked.

    “I’m not sure,” Dante said. “Tani summoned Cale. After Cale arrived, I got Zach out of the gazebo. Then Tani teleported me to a path near the administrative buildings. I used my magik to compel one of the rescue workers so she would believe she’d found Zach by the river.”

    “Did anyone see you?” Amu asked, curious.

    “April,” Dante answered with a smile. “She rushed to hug me before I could hide. I hugged her back and told her everything was fine—that Zach was safe—then I sealed her memory of the night.”

    “She’ll remember if it becomes important,” Amu said.

    “Probably,” Dante agreed. “For the first time, I felt a deep concern for my children, a need to protect them. And I knew that feeling came from Tani.”

    “And what do you think of Tani?” Amu asked. “You’ve come back here together. I sense his power is more at ease, no longer so restrained. You’ve made commitments.”

    Dante held Amu’s bright green eyes. They were nothing like Tani’s amber, though they shared the same fiery hair: Tani’s red-brown, Amu’s the color of ripe pomegranate seeds.

    “Tani is my soul,” Dante said without hesitation. “I can’t live without him.”

    Amu studied him, then exhaled a soft sigh. “Finally. It’s good to see you offer him the same devotion he’s always given.”

    Dante almost agreed but hesitated, recalling the records he had read at the library before their trip to Kirtland.

    “Uncle Amu,” Dante said, smiling when Amu blinked at the address. “Tani calls you Uncle, so I should too.”

    Amu nodded in acknowledgment.

    “What makes you think the others didn’t choose him?” Dante asked. “I’ve been dreaming about my past reincarnations. That’s how I recognized Tani when we met. At first, I remembered the awful moments of leaving him. Lately, though, I’ve seen how those past lives tried to return to Tani—but Tani was gone, or they died before reaching him. Don’t you think they tried their best too?”

    Amu let out a weary breath. “So, do you plan to change what happens this time? Do you think it can be changed?”

    “Yes. I’ll make sure no one interferes with my choice,” Dante said. “I’ll fight for him and keep what’s mine. I can be very possessive.”

    Amu chuckled. “A wonderful trait when it comes to loving an ekho fox. We’re quite possessive, and it’s been painful to watch my nephew suffer disappointment.”

    Dante met Amu’s gaze again, his heart racing at the quiet warning in those green eyes.

    “Whatever happens,” Dante said, “I’ll give everything I have. I won’t hold back. I don’t want regrets, and I’ll do everything I can to keep us together.”

    Amu looked toward the living room door. Dante followed his gaze and found Tani standing there, smiling.

    “Are you happy?” Amu asked, getting up to stand beside Dante’s chair. He patted Dante’s shoulder with a small smile.

    “Yes,” Tani said.

    “Good,” Amu answered as Tani walked over to them. “So, your father—are we accommodating him?”

    “Yes,” Tani said with a nod. “I told him to stay in the suite next to yours.”

    “I’ll go check on him,” Amu said, then left the room with brisk steps.

    Dante stood, and Tani launched himself into his arms.

    “I love you,” Tani murmured, pressing his face into Dante’s shoulder.

    “And I love you,” Dante said, kissing Tani’s hair. “With everything I have.”

    Tani clung to him, then lifted his head. “I’ll take you somewhere.”

    “Where?” Dante asked, cradling Tani’s waist.

    “A quick tour, then we’ll visit the first place we ever said ‘I love you’ to each other,” Tani replied. “Close your eyes.”

    Dante did as he was told, trusting Tani’s teleportation. He’d grown used to the sudden shifts in location and had even come to appreciate them.

    Tani took Dante on a tour through the forest surrounding the conservancy. Tani showed Dante the marshlands, a thick forest with ancient endangered trees. They ate oranges in a hidden grove and fought with territorial monkeys over the ripe oranges. Finally, they stopped by a hollow tree, and Dante crouched with a broad smile as Tani petted two small foxes.

    “Why are they living here?” Dante asked.

    “The river flooded,” Tani explained, “and I helped them find this hollow. Aren’t they adorable? Want to try?”

    He picked up one of the foxes and turned to Dante.

    Dante approached cautiously, hand trembling as he reached out. The little fox let him pet it for a moment before shrinking away.

    “What’s wrong?” Tani asked, lifting the fox to eye level.

    ‘He’s too hot,’ said the fox. ‘His fire stings.’

    Tani patted the fox’s head and returned it to the hollow, where it disappeared inside the tree with its companion.

    He glanced at Dante. “They’re wary of the fire in your blood. You’re still running hot from our fight with Lua.”

    “I was triggered when Zach was in danger,” Dante said, inspecting his palms. A faint orange-red glow pulsed beneath the skin. “It’ll take time to cool.”

    Tani took Dante’s hands and pressed them against his cheeks. “I think it’s perfectly nice.”

    “You’re biased,” Dante teased with a helpless grin.

    “I need to tell you something,” Tani said softly, still holding Dante’s hands.

    “Something your father told you?” Dante guessed.

    “No,” Tani answered. “Lua confessed he brought kara ot from the ekho realm—specifically designed to harm a mortal. He helped a villain use it against you. Every time you tried to return to me, they interfered, and you died. I don’t know what to do with this revelation. Thankfully, Cale and Sunu learned the truth, and they’ll make sure Lua and his accomplices are punished.”

    Swift relief swept through Dante. He exhaled and met Tani’s gaze. “I’m glad. They never entirely tore us apart. I’m happy to know the others never let our love down. Let your love down. That although broken and twisted, they still knew to find you again. Even if it took so many tries, I still found you.”

    Tani leaned up and kissed him. “I should have stayed so you could find me more easily,” he murmured. “Maybe none of this would have happened if—”

    “No regrets,” Dante whispered, pulling him close. “Maybe everything led us to where we are now. I’m finally strong enough to face your true existence head-on. And I’m grateful we discovered the truth together.”

    Dante pressed his forehead against Tani’s shoulder.

    “I’m glad it was with me,” Dante repeated, unable to hide the jealousy at the thought of Tani finding his happiness with the others, especially the janissary.

    Tani chuckled. “Stop drinking your vinegar. How can you be jealous of your past self?”

    “Can’t help it,” Dante admitted, hugging Tani tighter. “You and the janissary built a castle that is still standing today. All I’ve done is help with some apple trees at your hidden cottage.”

    Tani laughed. “Then let’s build something too.”

    “What?” Dante asked, voice muffled by Tani’s shoulder.

    “I’m not sure. We’ll figure it out. But first, another special place.” Tani pulled him close, teleporting them away from the fox hole. “We’re here.”

    Dante opened his eyes, arms still wrapped around Tani. He drew in a sharp breath at the sight of a waterfall plunging from a tall cliff into a clear blue lake, evergreen trees towering on either side. A cool mist clung to the air, and the cascading water sparkled in the late afternoon sun.

    “Where are we?” Dante asked, looking at Tani. “I’ve seen this in my dreams. You brought Durante here. There’s a cave behind the falls.”

    “It’s deep within the conservancy,” Tani said, taking his hand. “Want to swim?”

    “I didn’t bring a swimsuit.”

    “Who needs one?” Tani teased, shrugging off his suit jacket and dropping it on a nearby rock. He peeled off his shirt and trousers, beaming when he stood there naked.

    Dante grinned back at his carefree lover, who dashed into the lake with an elated laugh, disappearing beneath the surface. Dante tore off his clothes and dove in after him. The cold water shocked his overheated skin, making him laugh as he swam. The roar of the waterfall echoed around them, and Tani’s playful splashes drew him close.

    They chased each other like spirited children, the afternoon light dancing through the trees. Tani flung water at Dante, and Dante dunked him in return until both were breathless and laughing.

    Tani drifted in close, kissing Dante’s shoulder before darting toward the waterfall. Dante followed, spellbound by the copper glints in Tani’s hair. Sunshine and water mingled in a scene that felt full of promise—like a world where happiness could last.

    Catching up, Dante seized Tani’s arm, pulling him into an embrace. He found Tani’s amber gaze and kissed him, warmth sparking through every nerve. Tani sighed contentedly, winding his arms around Dante’s neck. In that moment, time faded away, leaving only the two of them.

    The waterfall’s thunder mixed with their murmurs. Their kisses and tender touches grew urgent and passionate, stoking desire. Tani broke their kiss, and suddenly Dante was resting against a warm comfortable surface with Tani leaning over him. With a quiet gasp, Dante realized they were no longer out in the open; Tani had whisked them into the cave behind the falls. Blue crystals on the walls cast a soft glow, and a thick wool blanket lay on a natural ledge. It felt intimate and secret—a space belonging only to them.

    “You’re full of surprises,” Dante murmured against Tani’s lips.

    “The good kind?” Tani asked, threading his fingers through Dante’s hair.

    “The best kind,” Dante replied, deepening the kiss. Sparks of magic danced along Tani’s skin, and Dante shivered at the electric thrill when Tani returned his caresses with equal eagerness.

    “Dante,” Tani breathed, voice trembling with want. He held Dante tighter, urging him on.

    A gentle, pulsing glow lit the cave as their magic mingled and twined. Each caress sent a jolt of electricity racing along Dante’s senses. He shivered when Tani’s hands explored him with matching eagerness, their bodies moving in a harmony older than time. Minutes or hours might have passed; it felt endless. Dante marveled at how perfectly they fit together, as though they had been made for this dance since the dawn of creation. Tani’s breath came hot against Dante’s neck, and soon neither could tell whose heart was pounding louder, their mingling voices blended with the waterfall’s steady drum.

    They savored every moment, lovemaking unhurried and comforting as if time itself had paused for them. Finally, they lay entwined on the blanket, enveloped by the glow of the crystals and their shared afterglow.

    Tani nuzzled Dante’s shoulder and sighed. “What if I asked you to stay here forever with me?” he said, half-teasing.

    Dante smiled, tracing slow circles on Tani’s back. “I’d say yes in a heartbeat. Think we can manage that?”

    Tani lifted his head, his grin playful. “You’d make a handsome forest king, but you might miss Artri House.”

    “We can always visit Artri House—but we don’t have to stay,” Dante said, threading his fingers through Tani’s hair. Tani’s eyes slid shut, enjoying the touch.

    “I think it would be lovely to stare in your family home,” Tani said after a while. “It feels like somewhere I can always find you.”

    “Then we’ll live there when we’re ready,” Dante replied warmly. “It’ll be our home.”

    They fell silent, cradled in each other’s embrace, safe in the cave’s secret sanctuary. For that perfect period, nothing else mattered—only Dante, Tani, and the soft hush of the waterfall, promising a future as bright and steadfast as the love they shared.

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